dust to dust
by ladygalaxyj
Summary: "The missing year, things were a bit rocky between us, yeah?" Their minds might have forgotten, but their souls have not. A week by week exploration of the missing year: shared memories, battles, friendships, longing, and love emerging even in the darkest of hearts.
1. Prologue - Week 1

_Okay, here we are. I've been meaning to write this for the whole summer, but the timeline of the missing year made no sense, and I hit a brick wall every time I tried to figure it out. Well guess what? I think I finally did._

_Of course, everyone has a different interpretation. I found one that made sense for me and for what I wanted out of this story, enough to go forward with it. This A/N is kinda long, but I need to make sure we're all on the same page. Don't worry, the good stuff is coming._

_Boring stuff out of the way first - the **timeline**: As far as canon events go, they appear in the order the were shown in OUAT (talking about missing year flashbacks), which means: 312, 313, 314, 315, 319(first scene), 319(every other scene). In 319, we are shown two parts of the missing year that are supposedly eight months apart. Scratch that, they are not, it makes no sense with Snow's pregnancy (unless they have 10-11 months pregnancy in the EF, which I doubt)._

_In fact, my belief is that this indication was merely put to tell us the duration of the missing year (give or take a few weeks). Eight months is close enough a year to call it like that (it would get long if they kept referring to it as their missing '8 months'). And lots of things happen in eight months. Also, Emma dated Walsh for 8 months. Coincidence? I think not._

_This fic will explore this '8 months' week by week, as we go through character development and changes in FTL as our favourite characters slowly readjust to life in the Enchanted Forest. 1 chapter = 1 week. So we're looking at something that should have around 32-34 chapters in the end. I'm not counting days, we're rounding up months to four weeks each. This fic is daunting enough as it is for me. But we got to scare ourselves sometimes!_

_One last thing! **Characters and relationships**: This is canon - my personal headcanon to be exact. So all canon romantic relationships who are in the EF at that time will appear in some way or another. Obviously, if you've been following my work, my tumblr or just know me in general, you know my love for Outlaw Queen is pretty strong. The idea for this fic was born out of a desire to explore what had happened between those two during all this missing time, but as I started planning, I realised there were so many characters I missed, so many possibilities for that year. (I highly doubt they fought Zelena every day of that year. Other things happened for sure.)_

_So I chose to expand this, and while, despite my best efforts, I think it will turn out 2/3 (or 3/4) Regina Mills/Outlaw Queen, I will explore other ships/friendships (Snow/Regina, David/Regina, Red/Snow, Red/Regina, Belle/Robin, Regina/Neal, Robin/the Charmings, Robin/Mulan, etc), and yes as you might have guessed reading those names, I do intend on bringing into the story characters that have left to show because the actors were unavailable. I don't need actors for this story. (Low budget thing, sorry. ;) )_

_Phew! I think we got everything out of the way. Sorry about rambling for so long, but I felt like it was necessary. If you are confused about anything as you read on, you can always leave questions in reviews, and I'll get back to you via PM. If you review as a guest, you'll have to wait for the next update._

_I hope you enjoy this. I consider this fic to be my baby, and I'm finally letting it out into the world. Scary, but fun!_

_The title comes from a song by The Civil Wars - Dust to Dust. It's my background music as I write this fic._

_Many many thanks to the ever lovely Britt and Adi who are patient enough to listen to my ramblings as I work on this. And to Maggie for being an amazing beta and making sense out of my words. Thank you!_

_Disclaimer: Any recognized dialogue is taken from the show and is therefore not mine. :)_

* * *

**dust to dust**

_She had lost count of how many she had crushed, the darkened state of her own heart lost to her, a fleeting thought she hadn't been bothered with, for she had been blinded by revenge. This new, feeble, glowing red heart she held in her hands had only been one amongst others, adding to the ever-growing list. _

_Only, it hadn't been. _

_It had taken her father's very essence to fuel the curse, giving life to her salvation, enabling her to have everything she ever hoped for. Losing – destroying – the thing you loved most was the cost, and Regina had thought she was ready to pay the price. She told Rumplestiltskin such when she later visited him. He warned her that the curse would dig a hole in her heart, a void never to be filled. An emptiness she would need to fill._

_But no one had told her she'd have to do it twice. _

Those were Regina's thoughts as she crumpled the scroll containing the Dark Curse, watching Henry cross the town line in Emma's yellow bug. She didn't have to squeeze a beating organ in her hands – she would rather have her life be destroyed by Pan's curse than kill her own son – but this was all the same.

A heart was lost that day, turning into dark ashes, a dusty remnant of what it once was.

Hers.

* * *

**Week 1**

A rare laugh escaped the Queen's throat when a loud howling broke the silence of the night and startled him. There was nothing in sight, but Robin immediately adopted a defensive stance, drawing an arrow from his quiver and aiming at the shadowy cobblestone pathway leading to the castle's entrance. The moon was high and bright in the dark shade the night sky, the sole witness to the events that had transpired that night.

"The forest dweller is scared by a wolf cry. Who would have thought?" Regina mocked him, crossing her legs and leaning back casually on the grey marble bench, resting her weight on her palms. She let out another soft chuckle and shook her head when the outlaw didn't stand down.

Robin knew she was only trying to alienate him. She had been doing so ever since he joined her quest to lower the Wicked Witch's protection spell around the castle, but he'd seen the cracks in her armour. When she spoke about Henry (Emma and Baelfire's Henry, he was still wrapping his head around that), there was a muted glow about her, like a candle had been lit, its dancing flame chasing away the obscurity shading her soul.

He knew her animosity was only a mask, one she seemed persistent on wearing even if it was failing her. The Evil Queen persona she insisted on projecting hid the woman she truly was: the broken mother who had just lost a son. He thought he wouldn't be much different if something were to happen to Roland.

The thief couldn't claim to know the Queen, aside from the reputation that came with her name. (Sherwood Forest was in another jurisdiction, but his own king was so intent on catching him that his face had graced wanted posters throughout the kingdoms.) He had been hunted by her black knights every time he set foot in the Dark Forest, Regina's territory, and the tales of her misdeeds had reached his ears more times than he could count. Every kingdom knew how cruel she had been while seeking vengeance over Snow White, even scaring fellow kings and queens. She had burned down villages and killed hundreds without so much as a second thought.

But the outlaw knew there was more to her than what first met the eye. He'd seen it a few hours ago, and he couldn't help but wonder why she didn't let that other part of her show more often – but it wasn't his place to question it.

Instead, he casted a sideways glance at his companion and counteracted her previous jab, "It's not my fault if your presence keeps me on edge, Your Majesty." Still, he relaxed his arms but kept his hands firmly fisted on his weapon. One was never too careful.

She sneered at his reply but didn't say anything in return. Robin held back a relieved sigh. Verbal sparring with the Queen was tiresome; he hoped it would end soon.

They had decided to wait for the Charming clan, as Regina referred to them, outside the main entrance of the castle. She had offered him a spot next to her, but he preferred to stand. Robin had been honest about one thing: her presence did make him uneasy. Sitting next to her was guaranteed to make him feel flustered, something he wanted to avoid.

There was another howl, closer this time. Regina got up and walked past him, heading down the cobblestones and squinting her eyes, undisturbed by the sound. Robin shifted his weight nervously and steadied his weapon in front of him. He didn't know what worried him the most: the approaching beast or the fact that Regina didn't seem to care.

A wolf bounded up the path, heading straight for them, teeth out, growling menacingly. "Milady, be careful!" Robin shouted as he repositioned his bow, aiming for the canine's head.

"Drop your bow, _thief_,_"_ she commanded in her best queen tone, yet her eyes remained on the wolf that had stopped in its stride a few feet from them.

When Robin didn't do as the Queen asked, she flicked her hand in the air, and his drawn arrow appeared in the palm of her hand with a swirl of purple smoke.

"Regina!" he exclaimed, furious, but she didn't move, only indicated at the now tame wolf with the arrow tip. The beast was sitting down like a good dog in front of its master. It looked almost friendly despite the yellow glow of its eyes.

Regina took two steps forward. "Those idiots took an awful chance by sending you first," she addressed the wolf before waving her hand in the air again.

This time, a heavy red cloak appeared in a similar violet haze and covered the beast. To Robin's dismay, the cloak stood up, and a woman with long brown curls stood in front of them, the jaundiced light in her eyes fading away. He recalled Snow introducing her to him as Red, a name suiting her like no other considering the cloak she always had – well, until now.

"And it's me you fear?" Regina smirked at the new woman. "_He_ was about to shoot you," she indicated Robin with her chin, and the outlaw had the presence of mind to look down for a second.

Red spoke up, "You've betrayed us before. I'm just keeping my eye on you." The thief admired her confidence, and a quick glance at Regina told him the Queen only pretended not to.

"As you should," Regina approved, a pleased smile anchoring itself to her lips despite her stature of indifference.

Robin observed the two women perplexedly as Red returned Regina's pinched smile with one of her own, their staring contest reaching a sort of stalemate. He had thought Red avoided the former Evil Queen like most people in their group seemed to, but he was beginning to understand that Regina's relationships with her travelling companions weren't anything like the stories the thief had heard. He couldn't quite say the Queen was trusted, but the resentment he expected to see was dulled, nearly absent, in their interactions. In its stead was an understanding that ran deeper than the outlaw could comprehend.

Not for the first time that day, Robin wondered what happened in that other realm to change the dynamics of the kingdom so much. He could sense change coming, and he didn't know if he liked it.

The rest of the cavalry arrived before either of them could speak.

Regina quickly updated the Charmings on the witch's status, stating that the castle was theirs for now, and that she doubted Zelena would be returning any time soon. She left out their family connection, and Robin wondered if it was his place to reveal the details Regina had omitted.

Snow had been at Regina's side the moment she was in proximity to the group and still hadn't left it. Robin noticed it made the Queen tense, and Regina avoided her stepdaughter's watchful gaze most of the time, yet Snow hovered, and her face was washed over with a mix of sadness and relief the outlaw recognized as an amplified version of his own feeling at seeing the Queen come back from the courtyard unscathed. Somehow, the Princess already knew what had transpired at the palace that night.

David, ever the practical man, joined the conversation before the thief could dwell on it, "So we can start moving people in?"

At Regina's nod, the Prince started shouting commands at their little group. After checking in with Robin, he sent Granny, Ruby, Little John, a few other Merry Men and some members of the royal guard back to the camp to escort children and elders back to the castle.

When it was only the three of them – Robin, Snow White, and Regina – Snow turned to her stepmother, "I'm really glad you're unharmed, Regina," and although her words were directed at the Queen, her eyes searched Robin's and sent him a thankful look. If he had a doubt earlier about whether or not Snow knew about Regina's near-cursed state, he was certain about it now.

The thief remembered how relieved the Princess had been when he announced he was going to follow Regina despite her assurances that she would be fine on her own. Snow had protested at first, claiming he didn't know Regina, and that Her Majesty's wrath could bring down the very best in a heartbeat – or in no heartbeat at all, which was exactly the problem.

Snow had let him go when he explained his motive: Regina had saved Roland, and now he owed her. Thinking back, Robin thought Snow must have known the Queen would back down at the mention of a child and that it would be enough for Robin to get through to her. She had been right. He had been able to glimpse through the Evil Queen walls and, for a moment, he had even feared for her life – not he would admit any of that.

To Robin's dissuasion, Regina noticed their silent exchange and straightened her shoulders. "No thanks to him," she stated with disdain before walking away to join the group of people around David.

Snow shook her head as the Queen left, closing her eyes briefly. "I know she can be a handful," she sighed sadly, not minding if Regina was still within earshot. "Thank you for keeping an eye on her," she added in earnest, looking up at the archer with a sincere look.

The Princess's relief at seeing Regina alive was so genuine; Robin found that he couldn't keep the complete truth from her. It wasn't his place to discuss the sleeping curse Regina wanted to use on herself, but he would make sure someone kept an eye on her if it wasn't him. "The witch wasn't the danger she needed protecting from," he cautiously admitted to Snow.

Regina's head immediately snapped in his direction, her gaze meeting his in a challenge. Robin was sure she would break his neck if he even uttered one word about what had happened inside her chambers, but the fear in her eyes betrayed her. It confirmed only one thing to the outlaw: the Queen cared more about these people than she let on – and they obviously did so too.

"What was?" Snow pressed on, even though she knew part of the truth.

Robin's eyes left the Queen's, and his lips curved up in a small, sad smile as he confirmed the Princess's suspicions, "Memories."

With a curt nod, he left to join his men coming back from the camp, kneeling to catch Roland when his boy ran toward him, Regina's stuffed monkey still clutched in his small hand.

* * *

Regina stepped aside, as David directed everyone inside the castle, her eyes set on their new friend as he embraced his dubious family of Merry Men. She watched as the little boy she had saved ran to his father, her lips pressing together in a tight, straight line when she noticed the fluffy toy in his hands.

To the Queen's surprise, Robin didn't tell Snow White the details of the events in her chambers. She let out a relieved breath when he walked away from Snow, closing her eyes and mentally thanking the archer for his discretion.

Regina regretted leaving a note to Snow more with every passing minute. She hadn't planned on being alive to feel her stepdaughter's worried gaze on her, to walk among these people like nothing had happened when three of them – if not more – knew she hadn't intended to come back from this mission.

"Care to explain?" her stepdaughter's voice intruded on her thoughts, and even if the letter wasn't mentioned, Regina knew exactly what Snow was referring to.

The Queen broke her gaze away from the reunion to face Snow's questioning eyes. "Zelena," she started, knowingly avoiding the subject, "the Wicked Witch, she wants me dead." With a half-smile, knowing the news would make Snow drop her prying attempts, she added, "She told me we were sisters." After a short pause, she amended, "Half-sisters."

As predicted, Snow's face turned to shock. "Is it true?"

"I don't know," Regina answered truthfully, "but I intend to find out."

"But it is possible…"

The former Evil Queen sighed, "I suppose." They fell into step with the remaining crowd walking towards the castle's huge double doors. "I don't know much of my mother's life before she married my father. 'My peasant days are over, I will not speak of it', she would say." A beat passed. "I guess she didn't want anyone finding out she had another child – _if_ what Zelena says is even true."

Silence stretched between them after Regina's declaration, but worry was etched on Snow's face. The Queen was too busy breathing out a sigh of relief to be busy; she only glad she had averted a talk on the yellowed parchment she had left in Snow's saddlebag.

She knew it was coming, but she planned on avoiding for as long as she could.

* * *

The sun was shyly rising behind the treetops by the time everyone was assigned a room in the castle. They had to factor in groups and families, and they did their best to give everyone proper accommodation. It was only temporary, but as they didn't know the state of the rest of the kingdom, they had to make sure everyone with them was comfortable enough to last at least a few days.

The Merry Men were given an unused hall and more comfortable mattresses than what they usually slept on. Regina watched from afar as Robin bid goodnight to his son – she longed to do the same with Henry; the little boy's presence a painful reminder of what she had lost – before leaving Roland in the care of Friar Tuck and Little John. The outlaw stayed behind to help until only he, Snow, David, and Regina were left in the foyer.

Snow embraced Robin, thanking him again for saving their lives and helping them secure the castle – Regina sometimes envied her ability to trust so easily. She would never have touched the outlaw, yet her stepdaughter already had her arms wrapped around the man.

David had convinced his wife to retire to their chambers. The Princess had wanted to search for missing people, but they decided that they wouldn't be much assistance to anyone in their exhausted state. Travelling realms was a heavy burden on their bodies. They would form search parties as soon as they were well rested. Rushing things was a bad plan, or so she had been told.

Regina didn't pay the thief an ounce of attention when the Charmings left and started walking away, only to have him match her steps. She stopped and faced him, clearly annoyed. "I believe your son would like to have his father around should he awaken from nightmares. Need I remind you he was _attacked_ today," the Queen stated grimly.

"I trust my men with my life Your Majesty, and more importantly, with the life of my son." His answer was prompt, and simple. "They can take care of him until I get back."

Her eyebrow rose slightly, considering his words. She didn't understand how someone could come to trust a group of thieves – but then Robin was one himself, their leader.

They stayed in silence until Regina started feeling uncomfortable under his unwavering stare. His intense irises were bound to burn holes in her flesh. "Is there something I can help you with or are we going to stand here all night?" she asked, trying to bring the conversation to an end.

The thief hesitated, "Am I going to see you tomorrow?"

"What are you talking about?" she snarled, but his meaning didn't go misunderstood – it was carved in the creases on his face.

Regina took in small breath, stunned. He barely knew her, yet he was making sure that she wouldn't repeat her earlier actions once she was alone in her room. She had been so convinced no one would care if she cursed herself. Robin was the last one who should display that kind of concern – they had just met. He was throwing her firm beliefs out the window, and her body tensed in response.

She shook the feeling away. "Don't worry, I'll be there to make sure you leave my castle once your services are no longer required," she threatened, but by the look in Robin's eyes, he saw right through her.

He had the respect and decency to play along though. "I expected nothing less." Bowing, he added, "Good night, Your Majesty."

There was a smirk on his lips when he stood up, but Regina paid him no mind and turned around, her queenly strides leading her out of the hall.

* * *

"We missed you at breakfast." Regina was startled be Snow's voice, almost dropping the lid of the trunk she was through on her fingers.

The Queen was alone in the library, rummaging through some of her mother's old journals and books, looking for something to second Zelena's claim; she wouldn't believe anything the witch said about their sisterly connection until she had proof. Tales of her wickedness had crossed realms, and to know they shared blood was an unwelcomed reminder of the darkness tugging at Regina's own heart. It seemed she would never be free of her past, no matter how hard she tried to make amends.

Most of Cora's belongings were returned in her vault below the castle when she undid the curse and brought them back to the Enchanted Forest, but the Queen couldn't escape any visitors for more than a half day and she didn't want to risk either of them getting the idea that they were welcomed in her sanctuary. So she was going through what little was her mother's in the rest of the castle.

"I wasn't hungry," she replied, annoyed and tired of being watched over like some feverish child.

They had been back for two days now, and the Queen was still getting used to not having a clock on her nightstand when she woke up in the morning. This realm offered them a much simpler way of life than Storybrooke, but after almost thirty years of the same morning routine, Regina found it hard to adjust back to her natal land. There were only bad memories in this place; she missed Storybrooke and Henry – mostly Henry.

Snow clearly hadn't heard the dismissal in the tone of her voice because she was standing next to Regina before the Queen could tell her to leave.

Regina looked up at her stepdaughter. "What?"

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No." The high-pitched timbre of her voice betrayed her.

Snow objected, "Regina, you've been avoiding us for the past two days. You are late at council meetings, and you run out of the room the moment they're over."

"Well perhaps if you and your infuriating husband husband didn't insist on following me everywhere, I'd look forward to spending _even more_ time with you," she replied bitterly.

The Princess took another tentative step forward. "It's for your protection, the witch-"

"Is not here," Regina finished Snow sentence with a loud sigh, putting emphasis on every word. The book she was holding fell back into the trunk with a thud as she turned around to face her stepdaughter. "We both know what this," she gestured between them, "is." Zelena had nothing to do with Snow's constant need to look after her. "I appreciate your concern Snow, but I'm fine – really."

Regina rounded the table to put some distance between them. She paused on the other side, staring right back at her stepdaughter. A malicious glint appeared in the back of the Queen's eyes. "My heart is still in my chest. Care to verify?"

Her attempt at a joke was met by a scornful expression on Snow's face, making one corner of Regina's mouth twitch up with satisfaction. She returned her attention to the task she had started before being interrupted.

"I won't miss breakfast tomorrow, I promise," the Queen added when Snow still wouldn't leave.

It had the desired effect. Snow nodded and turned on her heels, the sound of her footsteps a faint echo as she walked down the hall.

Regina's peace of mind was short as David found her two hours later to escort her to lunch. He didn't even bother hiding the true purpose of his presence and would only exit her chambers with the Queen on his arm.

* * *

The castle hadn't seen such life since the death of King Leopold. The late king used to host balls and feasts every other day, with lively music and tables overflowing with exotic meals, all of which had come to an abrupt end when Regina had stepped to the throne. The mood was sombre now, but the halls were bustling with activity again as the search parties brought in more Storybrooke refugees. Encampments were installed in the gardens to accommodate for the sudden increase in numbers. There were an abundance of rooms in the castle, but they could never house the whole of the town inside its walls.

Regina had cast a protection spell over the grounds, extending it to the murky edges of the Dark Forest. Everyone had been instructed to stay within the shield's confines, for they didn't know how many of the Wicked Witch's simian agents roamed the woods. The security of their people took priority over striking back at the enemy – something that the Queen needed to be reminded of almost on a daily basis.

David and Snow bid farewell to their council as they left the meeting hall. Belle and Neal stayed behind when the doors closed after Granny's departure, taking a few steps towards the royal couple.

"Is there something we can help you with?" David inquired at the thoughtful look on their friends' faces.

"Yes." Belle was the first one to speak. "We wish to leave for Rumple's castle."

"We think there might be a way to revive my father," Neal seconded.

The Prince sighed, "Neal, we've been through this."

"We haven't seen his dagger! Who knows where it is!" Neal insisted, voice raucous with impatience.

"Neal…" David started anew, trying to calm him down because starting a shouting match would not help their situation.

The atmosphere in the castle had been tensed since their return, the air thick with unresolved issues. The Wicked Witch posed a threat they had no idea how to deal with, and there were new refugees flowing through the castle's doors every day, meaning most people had very little privacy as a result. Their personal losses from jumping realms were only the tip of the mountain of problems that kept piling up since their arrival in the Enchanted Forest.

Snow chimed in, her voice poised and reassuring, "The forest isn't safe."

Belle sent a pleading look Snow's way. "I _need_ to go," she requested, her tone huskier than usual, emotions building up inside her.

The Princess reached out to her with her hand. "I know you miss him – trust me, we understand." She gave Belle's shoulder a small squeeze. "But with Zelena's monkeys around, I'm not willing to risk any lives."

Belle shook her head. "We don't need an escort. We'll go on our own."

Snow let out a loaded breath and glanced up at David before resting her eyes on their friends again. "Let's return everyone to their villages safely. We'll need all the help we can get to make sure the kingdom is secure. When life starts being normal again, we won't hold you here against your will."

It was the best they could offer under the circumstances, and Belle and Neal nodded their agreement. They needed to better comprehend Zelena's motives before they started sending people outside the shelter of Regina's spell. David knew Belle and Neal could fend for themselves, but they were stronger together.

He stepped closer to his wife. "When is life ever normal?" he asked rhetorically once their friends had left the room.

Snow snuggled into her husband's arms. "It's not," she answered quietly, "but someone taught me to look for the moments"

His lips curved up and he squeezed his loving arms around her. "I wonder who that might've been," he chuckled as he rocked her gently, dropping a tender kiss on top of her head.

* * *

Regina sat up in bed with a gasp, sweat covering her forehead, shivers running down her spine, hands grasping the bed sheets. Her heart hammered inside her chest, the sound of her laboured breath overpowering the morning chipping of the birds outside.

She closed her eyes, trying to bring the rise and fall of her chest to a calmer, steadier pace. Her body still tingled from the nightmare, her fingers twitching involuntarily as she drew in a ragged breath.

It wasn't always the same dream, but every night since their return, her nights had been far from restful. Being in this land, in this castle, brought back memories she had thought long forgotten; discovering a possibility of a long-lost sister was both a blessing and a curse and came with its load of questions and problems; losing Henry, knowing her son had no memory of her existence ruptured her heart in tinier pieces every day.

Her newfound rivalry with Zelena had given her something to live for. She had revelled in it, but the Wicked Witch had stayed true to her word and hadn't come back to the castle after their initial confrontation. Now, the people she had sought to destroy for the majority of her life surrounded her, and Regina was reminded that anger alone wasn't enough to go on. And the more time she spent inside these walls, the more she remembered why she hated this realm, these people, and their hopefulness.

She began rubbing small circles on her temples to ease the looming headache before it could take hold. She hadn't told anyone about her dreams. The Charmings already hovered enough, and the rest of them were only hypocrites seeking the castle's protection. They tolerated Regina because it suited them, but she had seen the distrustful look in their eyes. It didn't matter that she had sacrificed everything to save them from Pan's curse; her evil moniker was still the only face she would have for them.

Water welled up behind her eyelids as Regina remembered their last day in Storybrooke. _You're not evil; you're my mom_. The thoughtful words of her child had warmed her heart and made her believe for a moment that she was better than her past. She focused on this image: Henry smiling proudly at her, squeezing her shoulder, wrapping her waist in his arms. It was all she needed to slow her heart back into a normal beat, stillness invading in her muscles, her earlier spasms coming to a halt.

She forced her eyes open, already dreading the day to come.

She had promised Snow she wouldn't miss breakfast.

* * *

She was sitting alone under her apple tree (it was part of her castle; it had been protected from the curse), deep in thought, a disgruntled and sad expression gracing her delicate, yet imposing stature.

It was a dichotomy Robin had noticed about the Queen on their first meeting. Her costumes were detailed, elaborate embroideries and beadings, corsets advantaging her small waist and full breasts, and overgrown skirts that could fit three of her. But when observed from afar, when she thought no one could see, the lines of her face gave her away, her quavering emotions clashing against the décor of her queenly adornments.

"Daddy, duck!" Roland's voice reached his ears just in time as he crouched to avoid Little John's wooden sword.

He jumped sideways, the lonely Queen forgotten for a moment, grabbed his how and pretended to draw an arrow aimed at his best friend's chest. "I'm afraid you've pissed off the wrong man, sir," he boasted, puffing his chest out, enticing bubbling giggles out of his son. "I would have your apology this instant."

John fell to his knees, dropping his weapon and joined his hands as he overplayed his plea, "Please Sire, I beg for my life." Roland cheers and claps had both men break character, unable to stop the smile forming on their faces.

"Arise, knight, and walk away. I never want to see you near my family again," Robin commanded with an upward gesture of his hand to support his words.

John got to his feet, repeating thanks over and over again, before he walked away, head hung in shame. (He made his away towards the rest of the Merry Men who were chatting idly not too far away and dropped down next to Friar Tuck.)

The thief barely had time to notice the mop of brown hair coming at him at full speed. Roland warned him of his arrival a few meters away, and Robin bent his knees to catch his son, twirling him around in the air, filling the gardens with the sound of the boy's silvery laughter, soon joined by his father's throaty chuckle.

The outlaw stopped when his son poked his chest and frowned at the serious look he found on his boy's face. "Why didn't you kill him, daddy?" Roland asked with the innocence of his younger years. "He was mean to you."

Robin set his son on the ground and stayed down to speak to him at eye-level. "_Never_ kill a man unless you absolutely need to. Everyone deserves a second chance, Roland."

"A second chance?" he questioned.

"Yes. People can change with the right opportunity."

Roland seemed to consider his father's words carefully before nodding in acceptance and trotting off happily towards the rest of the Merry Men under the prideful gaze of his father – his little boy was growing too fast.

The thief stood up with a grunt, and his head instinctively turned back to the opposite side of the gardens, to the Queen he was observing before Roland warned him of John's 'attack'.

He was surprised when his gaze met hers. She looked like she had been watching him too, and for more than just a second. It seemed Her Majesty couldn't keep her eyes off him, which pleased the thief immensely – he'd be a fool not to notice her beauty. The Queen was an enigma wrapped in velvet and silk, reputation and rumours, but so was he, in some way. 'Prince of Thieves' wasn't a title he had given himself. The name still left a bitter taste in his mouth; he wasn't proud of it. He didn't consider himself a thief like word of mouth depicted him to be.

The outlaw sent a small smile Regina's way, knowing it would provoke a reaction but turning around before he could see it. Some things were better left for later enjoyment.

* * *

The sparkling laughter of a child drew Regina out of her bleak state, and she tilted her head up in the direction of the sound. The outlaw who had joined their group on their first day back was swinging is son in the air, a picture-perfect representation of parenthood.

She used to do the same with Henry, when he was little and their lives were uncomplicated, when she was only '_mom'_ and not tainted by the Evil Queen. The sight of the happy pair filled her heart with sorrow, but she couldn't tear her gaze away.

There was something soothing and delightful in children. They were unburdened by their pasts, and the future consisted only of the next game they would play or the next meal they would eat – straightforward, free. Regina envied it; she would never feel that way again.

Her eyes rested on the father for an instant, an instant too long because he was looking her way now, and he caught her staring.

Regina felt a faint blush creeping up her cheeks and was thankful for the distance between them – he would not be able to see her pink-coloured cheeks, which only reddened when he sent her a smile.

She would have grilled him on the spot, but an unknown influence stopped her from acting impulsively, and she was forced to look as he walked over to where his men were conversing and sat down in the circle.

They had all been helpful this week, joining search parties and offering their forest expertise. The returners hadn't set foot in the woods in thirty years; some members of the guard were a little rusty. People were also still looking for family members. Not everyone had been brought back to the Enchanted Forest with their loved ones, thus the importance of searching for other groups who had just arrived from Storybrooke. Breaking a curse wasn't the same as casting it, she had had much less control on its effect – not taking into account that she also had had very little preparation time.

Her gaze drifted from the assembled Merry Men to the old, yellowed with age, wrinkled paper in her hands. She knew the words written with precise calligraphy by heart. She had read them so many times even the shape of each letter was familiar.

Her eyelids fell shut and her head slumped forward, shame worming its way through her veins. The evidence was under her watchful eyes all these years. She knew, should have known. The knowledge made her heart sink lower, caught underwater and forever trying to surface – drowning.

Feeling an external weight on her shoulder, Regina jolted and folded the letter in her pocket to hide it from prying eyes.

Turning her head to the side, she found a cricket staring blatantly at her. "Dr. Harp- Jiminy," she said in greeting, surprised by his presence.

"How are you Regina?" Even the shrill of this cricket form carried concern.

Regina sneered, "You're not my psychiatrist anymore."

"No," he agreed earnestly, his little green hand reaching for a loose strand of her hair and tucking it behind her ear with a squeak, simple acts a hardship in this body, "but I'm still your friend."

The Queen scoffed, turning her head away from his tiny, snoopy insect eyes, and rested her gaze on horizon. The towering trees of the Dark Forest casted frightful shadows on the luminous green expanse of her gardens, their shape detailed and cut out, as if you could pluck them from the ground. The sky was of the purest blues and void of whites or greys, the sun shining brightly over the campsites popping all over the castle grounds. There were too many, too many people taking the Queen's hospitality for granted, knowing that she couldn't throw them out. One small slip on her part and there would be requests for her to be locked in the dungeons, exiled to the sea kingdoms, or worse – much worse. They were all just waiting for the right opportunity.

"I don't have friends." _I never had any._

Jiminy let out multiple clicking sounds: a deep sigh. "You would if you gave yourself a chance."

She had to roll her eyes. Jiminy was just like Snow: bottled-up hope was his drink of choice, an unlimited supply of happiness, making you see rainbows and unicorns where the world was dull and grey.

Regina preferred something with a bit more flare that taught you about the hard way of life. Hope was for the weak; it was the one valid lesson from her mother she would never let herself forget.

When it became clear that he wouldn't get anything else out of her, the cricket jumped off her shoulder and flew away, his little form lost to her eyes, his colour the perfect camouflage for the outdoors. She wished for a similar ability, to hide when she didn't wish to be found.

Alone again, the Queen dug her hand in her pocket, reaching for the folded piece of yellowed parchment, and she read the words again.

* * *

Granny crossed the foyer in two impressively long strides for a woman of her age, halfway met by the wolf form of her granddaughter, over which she draped the heavy read cloak. Red stood up as a small group composed of Alan and Arthur (two of Robin's Merry Men), a few royal guards and four Storybrooke folks entered the castle.

"Not too much trouble?" the older woman asked, her eyes roaming over the newcomers, checking for injuries.

A thin man with dark shade of brown hair and dangly limbs, Alan, stepped forward. "Only one monkey ma'am, and none on the way back."

"We were able to avoid it by ducking under bushes. It didn't see us," supplied one of the guards, a man with a red fuzzy beard.

"We were lucky," Red stated next to her grandmother, who let out a relieved breath.

Search parties ventured out farther and deeper into the woods every day, looking out for remaining Storybrooke residents who hadn't found shelter yet. The initial curse had laid waste to the land, scorched down villages, and separated families. Coming back had restored the habitants to their original selves, but the destruction of the realm couldn't be undone.

Granny gestured the four Storybrooke townspeople closer, "Come, you're safe now. Snow White and the Prince are in a meeting with the Queen. We have food on the stoves, and we'll find you a place to stay on the castle grounds."

"The Queen?" a lanky man with greying hair stuttered, tugging a thin woman of similar stature to his side. "She's here?"

"She killed my brother!" the woman exclaimed, burrowing close under her husband's arm.

Granny glared at her granddaughter. Visitors were usually warned of the Queen's presence prior to their arrival. Regardless of Regina's recent intentions, her past was still an issue for some. The older woman turned her head back toward their guests, "I promise nothing will happen. As I said, Snow and David are in charge as well. Regina is working with them as we speak."

The man shook his head. "I'm sorry we've wasted your time, thank you, really, but my family and I cannot stay while she's here."

An awkward silence filled the room. They were the first to outright refuse their hospitality. Some villagers had taken more convincing, but eventually, most of them agreed that the protective shield around a castle provided a better shelter than any remaining ruins. Rebuilding would take time; the castle was a safe haven for the moment.

The quiet was broken by the sweet singsong voice of a young girl with blonde curls, "She's changed. She helped bring Henry back from Neverland."

The man laughed hollowly, meanly, his forefinger menacing the girl as he replied, "That boy is much better off with is biological mother. Much better breed."

"That's not true! Henry loves Regina!"

"Grace?"

All eyes turned towards the sound, the Queen's loud voice resounding against the walls of the foyer.

Granny made a move to step in-between Regina and the newly arrived group, skeptical of her reaction. Snow and David were standing behind her, their meeting having come to an end. They would stop any latent homicidal tendency Regina would have, but the Queen's gaze was fixed on the little girl with golden locks. If she had heard the man's allegation, she paid him no heed.

"Regina!" Grace's voice perked up when she saw the Queen, and it took all of a second for her to run towards Regina, who had managed to crouch without anyone noticing, and throw her arms around her neck.

* * *

_**A/N** (another one): About updates. I'm afraid they won't be regular. I suck at regular. But they will come. This fic is all planned out, but not written. It was too big to write all of it before posting, and my fingers were itching to show it to others. It will not stay a WIP forever. I will finish it, if it is the last thing I do._


	2. Week 2

_**A/N 1: **There are small changes to week 1. I tweaked (very slightly) the scene where Snow, David, and co. return at the castle to include the knowledge we gained from the missing scenes, aka that Regina left a suicide note to Snow. What changed? Nothing. Regina is still evading the subject (now more than ever), but Snow knows that something happened when Regina and Robin were alone in the palace. _

_**A/N 2:** This chapter deals with Regina's torture at the end of season 2. Nothing too graphic (at least I don't think so), but you have been warned._

* * *

**dust to dust**

**Week 2**

_Her body jerked. The muscles of her forehead contracted, followed by her neck, shoulders, arms, stomach, legs – in this order, then all the same time, over and over again. She trembled, with anticipation. With fear. With resignation. _

_She fell back on the metal table with a heavy bang and a grunt, her body limp, a rag doll for her tormentor to use as he pleased. She was a puppet, and the leather bounds holding her wrists, ankles and abdomen – they'd dent and scraped her flesh, she was sure – were the strings to control her._

_Her laugh was hollow, gruff, a bitter mockery thrown in a last resort. It scratched her throat lining, but still she laughed because there was nothing else to do. Giving into her fears, baring her weaknesses for others to see was not an option. "You have no… idea who you're dealing with," she attempted, but her own voice sounded disembodied, her vocal chords damaged from her muffled screams – from her _attempt_ at holding back her screams._

_No one was coming for her. She had been offered a second chance on her silver platter, and she had managed to screw it up. No one cared about the Evil Queen, no one would come._

_Not her son. Not even her teacher. Or her mother._

_She was alone. _

_She deserved it. All of it._

Regina jolted awake, chest heaving, eyes stinging with unshed tears. Her hands flew to her wrists where the too-tight belts had bruised her skin, and she started rubbing, trying to shake away the feeling of a thousand pins and needles poking her from the inside out.

A dream. It had only been a dream.

She forced her body out of bed and up on shaky legs, half dragging, half limping her way to the full-length ornate mirror in the opposite corner of the room. She stopped two feet away from the glass and stared blankly at her reflection, looking but not seeing.

Her hands reached for the straps of her nightgown and brushed them off her shoulders, the silk garment pooling around her legs a moment later. She stood, naked, body and soul, a fragment of the woman she once was, her eyes riveted on a thin red band between her chest and navel, where the belt holding her down had rasped the skin of her abdomen, the scar fading away but unmistakable.

She gently skimmed her fingers over the sensitive flesh. It didn't hurt anymore. It used to, in Neverland. She remembered a lot of sleepless nights then as well, but she had been camping with the Charmings and the pirate, so she had stayed silent, had endured the pain because she deserved it. She had faked sleep more often than not or had laid her cot far away from the others to make sure no one awoke to her tossing and turning.

Her torments rendered her weak; she would not let others see her weaknesses.

But for now she was alone, and she let a single tear of pain, exhaustion and abandon fall down her cheek, as her chest expanded and retracted with a heavy intake of breath.

The mark on her skin would soon disappear. With time, it would only be a memory.

And hopefully, the dreams would fade away with it.

* * *

_Regina watched hopelessly from her car as Henry turned to Emma for consolation, his conviction that his mother could change shattered into a million pieces before it could even take solid form._

_The tears freely springing from her eyes burned her cheeks, her fists grasping the wheel tighter and tighter, her knuckles turning white. She let her head fall down, shoulders shaking, unable to stop the sobs wracking her whole being. _

_Evidence was against her even though she was innocent. She had nothing to do with the cricket's death. She had earnestly been trying to change, but the Charmings and their insipid daughter were always ready to believe the worst of her, just waiting for her to slip so they could put her in a cage for eternity. She would never be family, not to them, not to the son she had raised for ten years, not after all the harm she had done._

_The passenger door suddenly opened, and the car tilted as someone got in._

"_Drive."_

_She looked up at the intruder with a frown. Jefferson._

"_Drive," he repeated. "Unless you want them to find you."_

_Her vision blurred with tears, she absentmindedly nodded – deep down she knew he was right; she had to leave. She turned the keys in the ignition and drove away from the embracing mother and son – an image she would never be a part of again._

_They rode in silence, reaching the outskirts of the town before the pain Regina felt subsided. Her mind clearer, she glanced at the hatter with bloodshot eyes. "What are you-"_

_He shrugged, "I know you didn't do it."_

_She slammed her foot on the break, tires screeching. They were in the middle of the deserted forest road leading to Jefferson's estate. The trees towered over them, casting shadows on the flawless pavement of the soulless, barely-used route. Nature shielded them from the bright sunlight, even if a few rays of sunshine made it through the heavy-leaved cover._

_Regina switched the gear to park and turned her head to her passenger, still dazed by his confession._

_The hatter must have read the confusion on her face because he supplied, "Look at you." And Regina looked down, avoiding the sudden intensity of Jefferson's gaze. "In all the years I've known you," he pursued, "I've only seen you once like that."_

_Daniel's name hung in the silence between them. Regina had been young then, a hopeful, broken girl, ready to be molded to Rumplestiltskin's interests, a fresh soul for the darkness to feast on. She closed her eyes, willing the memories away, knowing they would always threaten her._

_After a moment – not long enough to chase the ache, but long to gather her thoughts – she risked looking at Jefferson again and found a silent apology in his furrowed eyebrows. The hatter knew better than to pity her, but he had played her hand in her tragedy, and the apology was long overdue. She wasn't innocent either, but they had both acknowledged their pasts; it was time to move on._

_She opened her mouth to speak, but Jefferson was faster. "Why didn't I say anything?" he read her thoughts and sat back in his seat. "No one would believe me. I'm as crazy as you are for most of them."_

_Regina pressed her lips together in a straight line, shifting her gaze to the windshield. He was right._

"_We've always had an understanding, you and I, Regina," he continued when she didn't reply. "And in this land, we have a new one. Our children, they come first." He placed his hand on hers on the gearstick, an odd gesture of affection, but she didn't have the courage to push it away. "The truth will come out. It's only a matter of time."_

_She snarled, "When did you become such an optimist?"_

"_I'm not," he chuckled. "But it seemed like the right thing to say."_

_Regina considered his words a moment before entwining their fingers, thanking him with a discreet nod Jefferson would have missed if he wasn't looking straight at her. This was a fine line they were walking on, letting go of their past differences, not quite becoming friends but understanding each other like no one else in this god-forsaken town could._

_He would be right in the end, Jefferson. He had only neglected to mention it would take the return and death of her mother, two near death experiences, and a trip to Neverland for the townspeople to begin to accept her._

_Even then, the frontier between acceptance and tolerance was rocky, and Regina still didn't know on which side she stood._

* * *

"Papa said your castle was pretty, but he didn't say how much."

Young Grace was walking ahead of Regina in the gardens, the girl's purple dress swinging as she hopped down the stone path. Regina had taken her into her custody ever since she set foot in the palace, providing for her every need and spending most of her time with her when she wasn't needed for council duties.

People had started requesting leaving the castle grounds. They appreciated the Charmings' hospitality – not Regina's; most of them ignored the fact that this was her home too – but they wanted to start rebuilding their lives, to go back to being merchants, and butchers, and farmers, to find a semblance of what they had before being ripped away to Storybrooke.

While Regina couldn't wait for her halls to be quiet again, the Charmings were still worried about the monkeys roaming the forest. The search parties had stopped coming back with new refugees two days ago, and it was time to think about their future. The Wicked Witch was a threat, but they couldn't stop living because of her, and more importantly, the castle couldn't hold that many people for months. It would get cramped inside once winter came around.

The sunlight caught in Grace's hair as she swirled around to look at the Queen. "How was it like? Living here."

Regina was pulled out of her musings and shrugged, "Arranged marriages are rarely the stuff of fairy tales."

Grace cocked her head to the side. "You mean – you didn't want to be Queen?"

Regina lowered her gaze at the innocent question, enough to send her mind down a road it shouldn't follow, repressed memories coming back to haunt her. Very few people were aware of all the details leading to her descent into madness, even those who thought they knew everything. The Queen intended it to stay that way – not that she thought Grace would spill her secrets out, but she had learned the hard way that children were easily coerced.

She beckoned the girl closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, walking them to a bench on the side of the pathway.

"What did your father tell you about me?" Regina asked as they sat down.

"He said he knew you a long time ago, and that he wished he'd done things differently during your first meeting." She hesitated. "He also said you weren't always so…"

"Evil," the Queen completed at the slight tremor in her tone.

Grace nodded shyly. She was obviously afraid the term would upset Regina – it did, when it came from people who refused to see her efforts, but Grace meant it as her past, as her father did before her, and Regina's mouth curved into a sad smile. "No, I didn't want to be Queen," she answered her previous question. "My mother accepted the king's proposal in my stead when I saved Snow White's life."

"But I don't understand," Grace frowned. "Marriage should be about love."

"It should be," Regina echoed with a sadness the girl thankfully didn't pick up on. She cupped her cheek with a reassuring hand. "Yours will."

Two twinkling brown eyes looked back at the Queen, the spitting image of young Snow, who had believed in love so much her heart swelled at the mere possibility of it. The child princess had just lost her mother at the time, as Grace was now separated from her father – yet both held on to the one emotion Regina struggled with: hope, faith that the world was still good, and that everything would work out in the end if she just believed.

The Queen had been carefree too, once, a long time ago. The ache in her chest was now ever present, but she reined in the anguish that threatened to seep into the lines of her face. It wasn't something Grace needed to know.

Regina steered the conversation away from this dangerous ravine. "Your father and I didn't always see eye to eye," she started honestly, "but there is one thing we will always agree on, regardless of what realm we live in." She folded the younger girl's hands in hers. "You come first." _And Henry. _But Henry was gone now, so Regina would do everything in her power to protect Jefferson's daughter. "If we can't get to your father, I will personally make sure that you only marry the man of your dreams." She scooted closer and whispered, "And anyone who hurts you will have to face my fireballs." Her hushed playful tone didn't sound too threatening, especially with the hint of a smile that accompanied her statement, but she meant every word of it.

Grace beamed up at her and startled Regina by wrapping two small arms around her waist. The surprise passed, the queen returned the embrace, her hand gently stroking Grace's back.

She wasn't anywhere close to near figuring out how to find Jefferson, let alone how to get to him. Unmaking the original curse to defeat Pan's had sent them all back to where they were when she casted it in the first place. Grace's father was in Wonderland, and with no means of travelling in-between worlds, the Queen didn't know how to bring him back to the Enchanted Forest. She'd looked for his hat, but David had told her it had been burned in Storybrooke. Magic beans were depleted and looking glasses extremely rare.

But she would try. She would do everything in her power to reunite father and daughter. She would fix the heartache she had caused to yet another family.

* * *

Every night since their return was the same: twist and turn for hours before finally falling asleep, an agitated slumber, only to wake up in sweat. The only variant was the nightmare that plagued her. Yesterday, after her discussion with Grace, she had relived Daniel's death.

Needless to say, the prospect of sleeping again was making her anxious.

She released her hair from its elaborate up-do of the day, raven curls falling to the middle of her back, and replaced corset and leather for simple silk, breathing normally once again.

A look in the mirror of her vanity told her all she needed to know; she looked tired. The little sleep she had managed to get since they had set foot in the Enchanted Forest wasn't restful, and despite all her efforts to conceal it, even make-up did little to cover the growing bags under her eyes.

The soft mattress and feather comforter weren't enough to convince her to lie down; she drew the line at ten nightmares. Tonight, she would go for a walk, hoping it would help tame her dreadful subconscious thoughts.

Regina waited until the moon shone high in the night sky to slip out of her room, feeling very much the teenager again, avoiding Cora's vigil to spend the night with Daniel. (They hadn't done anything, simply held on to each other and gazed at the stars, but it had meant the world to her.)

The hallways bathed in silver moonlight, bare of any soul but her own, everyone having gone to rest for the night. She reached the courtyard and filled her lungs with the refreshing night air, closing her eyes at the cool sensation in her chest. Perhaps this would be enough to allow her decent sleep when she'd return to her chambers.

"Your Majesty?" A lilt she wished wasn't so familiar cut short her peace and quiet.

The Queen turned on her heels, back straight, shoulders squared, head up, and hands clasping in front of her. "What are you doing here?" she asked defensively, putting as much venom in her voice as she could, his mere presence grating her nerves.

He dared a step toward her. "I could ask you the same question."

"It's my castle." Her answer was sharp but didn't faze him.

"True," Robin conceded with a gleam in his eyes, stopping in his tracks a few feet from her, "yet you seem out of place."

Regina rounded him, intent on leaving. "That's because I should be sleeping."

"Why aren't you?" His eyes followed her, his unshakable confidence making her uncomfortable.

"I couldn't." She didn't know why she was answering him.

"That makes two of us."

She turned her head to look at him, finding the thief looking expectantly at her, as if she should do something with this new information.

His eyes studied her, going over every worry line of her face. The scrutiny made her uneasy, but she held his gaze and pressed her lips together in a scowl.

After a moment, the Queen barked, "See where else your steps can take you. The castle is big enough for two."

"Sure," the outlaw agreed with a cocked head and a smirk, exasperating her further.

She whirled around before she said or did anything she might regret, speed walking down the path, her heeled boots clacking on the cobblestones.

"You know, I always found it more agreeable to have company on sleepless nights," Robin called after her.

For a reason Regina ignored, something prompted her to look back. "Well, I don't."

"Yet you stopped walking." He caught up to her in three steps and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

She glared at him, annoyed but mostly confused by his boldness. No one but the Charmings dared approach her unless it was absolutely necessary, yet this man, to whom she had been all but kind, didn't seem an ounce rebuked by her terrible manners.

The Queen kept her arms firmly clasped in front of her and started walking.

It took two whole seconds before she felt a presence at her side, not touching but within brushing distance, so that their shoulders could collide if they didn't take a turn in the path simultaneously.

They strolled the gardens in silence – Regina had promised herself she'd push him away if he insisted on small talking, but the outlaw seemed to know better than Snow White.

His closeness was oddly comforting, in a way she couldn't explain. He was soothing something inside her by simply being here, as if he was applying a balm to her wounds – time wounds, ones she thought couldn't be healed – not that she'd let him know. The feeling was strange, and she risked a glance at him, but his features gave nothing away. His eyes stayed on the horizon, and if he felt her eyes on him, the thief didn't say anything.

Robin stayed with her until she had enough and even escorted her back to her bedchambers, all without a word. When she turned to bar him from entering her room, an acerbic remark on the tip of her tongue, he was already gone, leaving her to wonder if the last two hours had really happened.

It was a doubt that only lasted a day, for the next night, and all the ones after, whenever she found herself wandering the castle to escape her dreams, Robin would somehow find her. She wouldn't ask how he knew, or why he was here. They would never talk; simply walk the gardens or the halls together, and every night, he would disappear as they headed back to her chambers, leaving her with no clue as to what he was getting out of their night strolls.

* * *

"This is not Storybrooke," Granny stated, "Food doesn't come out of the stoves as fast."

Another day, another meeting. And once again, the door to the council chamber opened long after they had started, revealing the Queen, every bit regal in the midnight blue velvet dress hugging her curves and the elaborate hairstyle that seemed to magically hold in place.

"Finally, she shows up," Grumpy greeted with exasperation.

Snow shot him a reproachful look as Regina took her place across from them. She was always late; this was nothing new. They had stopped fussing over her, but Regina hadn't stopped avoiding them, much to the Princess's chagrin; she only came to their reunions by obligation and couldn't even find it in herself to be on time.

The dwarf apologized silently – to Snow, not to Regina – as David brought the Queen up to speed on their daily meeting.

People were getting restless. The castle grounds were not meant to feed hundreds of people every day. While it did have considerable provisions, they wouldn't last the winter if they continued to drain their resources at the same rate. Throwing their subjects out their doors wasn't an option because most of the agricultural strongholds were left barren by the curse, and it would take years for crops to grow again in those areas. Creating new ones would take too much time. It was already the middle of summer and they would never be able to harvest in time. Winters in the Enchanted Forest could be harsh, even compared to the less than favourable weather in Maine.

Regina interrupted the chatter around the table with a proposition that silenced everyone. "A fertilization spell," she said, joining her hands on the table and sitting straight in her chair, glaring at the room, defying any of them to dare oppose her.

* * *

In the end, those who opposed her most were those she thought would be on her side.

"Out of question," Snow's resolute voice resonated in the now almost-empty meeting room, the royal couple having dismissed the council soon after Regina's proposition. "How can you even believe we'd let you do something like this?" the Princess added, fuming.

Regina walked over to them. "You wanted me to help. _This_," she pointed at the ground with her forefinger to support her point, "is how. Magic is what I do, if you recall."

"And what's the price?" David asked before his wife could add anything.

The Queen turned her head to him. "What do you mean?" she feigned to misunderstand even though she knew exactly where he was going.

The Prince stressed every word, "Magic always comes with a price."

"It's not a curse if that's what you're thinking," Regina explained. "It's a spell, one that's not malevolent."

"You're avoiding the subject," Snow remarked. _'Again'_ hung in the air, but her desire to curse herself to eternal sleep was not something Regina wanted to discuss with the un-Charmings, ever. And no matter what they thought, this spell had nothing to do with what had happened on their arrival at the castle.

She sighed, "It takes life to create life." Her eyes went from Snow to the Prince. "The caster needs to spare a part of his life essence, infuse it with the land."

The Princess's reaction was immediate, "Regina, we can't let you do this!" Snow shook her head violently. "Henry…"

"Henry is not here!" the Queen exclaimed, surprised herself by the way her voice cracked completely and the water rushed up to her eyes. She blinked the tears away immediately; now was not the time to be weak.

From the look of surprise on Snow's face, she hadn't expected her stepmother to shout, but Regina was tired of them treating her like she was some porcelain doll someone had knocked over – and they were holding their breaths for the moment she would hit the cold stone floor and shatter in a million pieces.

None of them understood that magic was all she had. With Henry gone, the power flowing through her veins was her only friend, the only thing that was _hers_ – even her palace couldn't be considered hers now that she shared it with her stepdaughter and her husband, who now both looked at her like she hadn't thoroughly thought about the course of action she was proposing.

"I'll be down for a few days, at most," she added in a last attempt to get them to agree. In truth, she had no idea what the spell would do to her; she had never tried it. Her past involved destroying the land, not making sure they got good crops in time for winter.

Snow still had that horrified look. "Regina-"

"I don't need your permission, Snow." The tone in her voice was final, and while she knew the royal couple didn't agree, they also knew it was their best option. "There are too many people in this castle," she supplemented. "I'm not going to last the winter in these conditions." She faked a smile. "I'm sure you wouldn't be fond of my other suggestion for disposing of vermin."

* * *

"_You feel that!?" She heard him crank up the machine. "That's the end of you!"_

_The surge was so powerful this time that her screams tore apart her already broken vocal cords, no matter how hard she tried to keep them in. The force propelled her body upward, charred every muscle in her body._

_She was broken, defenceless, at the complete mercy of her faith, the faith she had brought upon herself. There was always the small sliver of hope that the next jolt to be the last one, the one that ended her. Her end would relieve the constant pain in her chest, the hole she had in her heart, the emptiness left by her father, her mother, and Henry._

_She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Her body was on survival mode, but she wanted none of it. She wanted this to be over. She wished she were someone else, someone who hadn't already suffered at the hands of others, someone with less stamina and lower pain tolerance. Her end would have come swiftly then._

_Regina._

_She was surrounded by darkness. She opened her eyes, but all she saw was black. She moved her hand in front of her but nothing. She couldn't even see her own fingers._

_Regina._

_No. It was her; the darkness was emanating from inside her, where it had consumed everything she was, everything that had made her Regina._

"Regina."

Snow's voice managed to pierce the blackness, light came rushing in, and she awoke with a gasp, sitting upright and fumbling frantically to remove inexistent bounds.

Her stepdaughter's reassuring hands were on her in an instant, wrapping protectively around her arms, stilling her movements and gently pressing her back down onto the mattress. "Easy, easy."

Something made Regina comply, the line between dream and reality still a blur in her mind. She settled against her pillow, eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room: her bedchambers in the palace. They were back in the Enchanted Forest. (She didn't find much relief in that. There were so many unpleasant memories in this place, but at least the one she had just experienced in her dreams was unlikely to happen again.)

Snow reached for a wet cloth and applied it on her forehead, the sudden cold running shivers down her spine. Regina wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to block the unwelcomed sensation, still too far gone to be self-conscious of her weakness.

The Princess rubbed small circle on skin, kneading the knots in her tense muscles. Slowly, Regina's grip on her stomach loosened. She swallowed and blinked, her ragged breathing slowly easing down to a normal pace. Snow didn't speak, repeating her ministrations, giving her the necessary time to readjust her heart rate after her abrupt awakening.

"What happened?" Regina managed to ask, her voice hoarse, and she coughed, her throat so dry it was cracking.

Snow had a glass of water at her lips a second later. "You passed out," she explained, as Regina tried to remember the events that had led her to lose consciousness.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. When she opened them, her mind was clearer. "The spell…" she mumbled.

"It worked," Snow answered before she could even voice her question. "Red just got back from a run. She says nature was growing before her eyes." She couldn't hide the smile from her face. Despite Regina's condition, it was good news. "The farmers said we should have good crops before the fall is over."

Regina nodded. "Good," she replied curtly before looking up at the ceiling, effectively ending their conversation. Snow's irritating concern tinged the air in the room, and seeing as she was bedridden, she would do her best to put off her stepdaughter and avoid yet another discussion on her well-being.

Snow didn't leave however and proceeded to remove the dampened fabric from her forehead with gentleness and care that grated on her nerves. She dropped the cloth in a bowl of water next to the bed and then gently brushed away the wet strands of hair plastered to Regina's skin.

The Queen kept glaring in front of her in silence, willing Snow to leave. She had checked up on her, she was awake, she was fine; her stepdaughter had no reason to linger.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Not only did Snow stay, she also wanted to talk.

"What's there to talk about?"

After a short pause, the Princess asked quietly, "How long?"

Regina frowned, "How long _what_?"

"How long have you had nightmares of…" she trailed off, and Regina saw it in her eyes – she had yelled in her barely conscious slumber, and Snow had witnessed it.

The Queen turned her head to the balcony, completely avoiding her stepdaughter's invading gaze. This wasn't something she wanted to discuss – especially not with Snow. It was enough to know that her former enemy had experienced her torture; she didn't need – or want – to talk it over with her. She was perfectly capable of handling it herself. Just like everything else.

Besides, Snow had everything: a husband that had made sure she was alright after experiencing the same torment as Regina, a daughter who had rushed to help her, a family to support her through their trip in Neverland. So, while Regina might agree that Snow had been subjected to the same ordeal by giving one of her tears to Rumplestiltskin, she couldn't possibly understand what her stepmother was going through.

"Regina, I don't care if you don't talk to me," Snow insisted when the Queen didn't speak, "but you have to open up to _someone_."

She mumbled a _get out_ that had Snow sighing heavily. She felt her stepdaughter's hand on her cheek one last time, a tenderness she didn't deserve after all the horrors she had done, before she felt the pressure release off the mattress and heard the sound the door opening and closing.

Regina's eyes stayed on her window the whole time, refusing to acknowledge the nagging sentiment that she did need someone – she simply didn't know how to ask.

* * *

"How's Regina?" David waited until he was alone with his wife to voice his concern. The Queen was good at evading questions and not being found if so she desired, and he knew worry ate Snow from the inside since they had found Regina's final thank you note – luckily, it hadn't been final, but they both knew it should have been.

The Princess sighed, "Eating badly, sleeping worse." She walked around to David's side of the bed and sat down, looking out the window. "I'm worried David," she confessed, quaver in her usually steady voice.

He knew how much she cared about Regina despite their tumultuous past, understood maybe not all of it, but some, so he settled next to her on the bed. "You know Regina, she won't ask for help"

Snow turned her head to her husband, worry etched in every line of her face. "Exactly. I _know _her."

David was about to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder when she got up and stomped to the balcony, leaving him to follow after her.

"We both know what that note was, David," she said when she felt him cross the threshold behind her.

"I know, but Snow," his voice was almost quiet, trying to calm her down, "there's nothing you can do." He joined her outside, resting his forearms on the ledge of the balcony. "As much as I hate to admit it, Regina's right." He paused when she faced him and explained, "We're not her parents. We need to stop taking care of her all the time if we want her to come to us."

He saw resignation mold his wife features, but they both knew he was right.

Snow tilted her head and half-chuckled, "Since when did you become such a Regina expert?" but even through her light-hearted tone, her voice carried emotions deep as the ocean, concern for Regina, for her stepmother, for the woman who had lost everything.

The Prince lowered his gaze to the ground, the true answer to that question one he knew would hurt his wife despite her good heart. He looked up at her with a forgiving look. "I was there when Daniel came back. I saw her kill the monster he became," he answered truthfully.

His affirmation was met by silence. _Daniel. _The one name that still pinched Snow's heart with guilt – not for what she had done, she was but a child, but for what his death had done to Regina.

David knew it, hence his hesitation, and his arms encircled Snow's waist from behind as she turned her head to observe the land, silent.

A movement to the far left attracted their eyes: two lone figures were walking leisurely down the path that surrounded the palace, shadowed by the dark night sky but clearly visible to the observant watcher.

"Is that?" Snow asked, her voice perking up with a tinge of excitement.

"I do believe it is," he said, turning his eyes away from the strange sight of the Queen in her nightgown and the thief falling in step beside her. At the mischievous smile lodging itself on his wife's lips, he added, "And we should leave them be."

Snow rolled her eyes, but David knew exactly of her mind worked. Regina didn't need them to interfere in whatever_ this_ was (the Prince highly doubted it was even something).

He distracted his wife with kisses to her neck, knowing he had won when she let her head roll back on his shoulder. He trailed his lips down to her shoulder, where he rested his chin for a moment, rocking their bodies as he hummed in her ear. Together, they let their eyes linger on the vast expanse of trees below them, their kingdom stretching far behind the horizon line. From up here, everything seemed to be undisturbed, as if they had never left. But everything had changed, and none of them were the same people who had left this land some thirty years ago.

* * *

The end of the week saw caravans eagerly leave the castle grounds. Snow and David watched their subjects go with a hint of fear in their eyes, the threat Zelena posed still looming over their heads, but they couldn't hold people against their will. With Regina's spell in effect, the lands would be fertile in a fortnight. Harvest would come late, but it would come. It was enough to start living again, as they slowly got reacquainted with their old ways.

From the solitude of her balcony, Regina looked at the steady stream of peasants walking toward the forest with a relief. She disliked these people perhaps just has much as they did her. Knowing they'd gone brought peace to her mind: no more side looks, no more whispers as she passed in front of an opened door. No more feeling out of place in her own castle.

Her eyes easily spotted Robin in the crowd and followed him as he spoke to one of his men. He had offered to escort the villagers to their homes, taking a few of his men with him. Regina didn't understand why he didn't leave himself; she doubted the famous Prince of Thieves wanted to spend the rest of his life serving the crown. (If the corner of her mouth curved up in a half-smile when she learned he was staying, it was pure coincidental.)

She sighed as she thought back to their midnight strolls; they seemed to grow longer with each passing night. They had just parted ways a few hours ago. It was now an everyday occurrence. They would walk the grounds together when the moon circled over the left turret of the castle, neither of them speaking, yet both content with this turn of events. Regina knew she should question it; no one readily spent time with the Evil Queen, but she didn't have the will to do it. Whatever reason had Robin Hood spent his nights with her, she preferred he kept them to himself, lest she be disappointed.

Perhaps Snow had been right; perhaps she just needed someone to listen. And Robin seemed perfectly fine with hearing her silence, which suited Regina perfectly; it was a nice change from the prying Princess who loved sticking her nose where it didn't belong. On the contrary, the thief had yet to overstep his boundaries, and with every night the Queen grew less and less cautious around him, a part of her even enjoying the time in his company.

The only person she truly avoided was the one that could so effortlessly enter her heart: the sweet little mop of brown hair with dimples that followed the rugged outlaw everywhere he went.

She had caught herself observing the child from afar more than a few times, and while the sounds of bubbling laughter brought joy to the still-pained inhabitants of the castle, they made the Queen yearn for another boy she couldn't have, a boy who didn't know who she was, a boy who would never be her little Prince, ever again.

* * *

"_Papa, what is that?" Grace asked, pointing out the window._

_They were enjoying afternoon tea in their humble Storybrooke home. Everyone had come back from Neverland; they were supposedly safe once again. Last he had seen Regina was at the celebration at Granny's, and he had been thrilled to see her leave with her son under her arm._

_Jefferson followed his daughter gaze to the spectacle raging behind the glass: the curse cloud rose on the horizon, swirls of greens and purples approaching the town at very high speed._

_The hatter walked to his daughter and yanked her to him protectively. He crouched to her height, grasping her arms, movements rough but time was running short, he knew it. "Grace, if anything happens, you know what you have to do?"_

_Fear veiled the girl's eyes as she nodded. "Find Regina."_

"_Yes." Jefferson felt the water rush to his eyes but repressed it. He needed to stay strong. For Grace. "She'll protect you."_

_His not-so-little girl nodded again, and he wrapped his arms around her as she did the same. He'd only spent a short time in town since the heroes' return, and he hadn't heard anything about a new curse coming. Whatever this cloud was, it couldn't be good. But Jefferson quelled his fears and focused on the feeling of his daughter, safe in his arms, for he didn't know how long it would last._

_The smoke enveloped them a few minutes later._

* * *

With most adults gone to help in the villages, the children had been left in Granny's care, a smile ever present on her face when they surrounded her. She had had tea with them in the afternoon and was now keeping a watchful eye on the running kids, as they played in the gardens to their hearts' content.

Regina, while her health had improved over the past few days, still hadn't totally recuperated from the fertilization spell. She stayed behind at the palace – she wasn't complaining; it was one less day with the overbearing presence of the Charmings.

Laughter and squeals guided her steps to where she was standing now, at the periphery of the group of children, contenting herself with looking from afar and drinking in their giggles and smiles. She sensed it the moment Granny noticed her arrival, but whatever the older woman was thinking, Regina would never know. She was too busy sending a smile Roland's way when the small boy looked up and saw her – but he was soon swept away by the game again, running after a boy two times his size.

To be perfectly honest with herself, Regina didn't know what she was doing here. The presence of children made the ache in her chest worse, yet she couldn't keep away. There was something in their innocence that Regina found soothing. Those who came from Storybrooke – the younger ones at least – probably hadn't even noticed the change of realms. They weren't preoccupied by the faith of an entire kingdom, or hated by them. Most of them didn't care who _she _was either.

Grace spotted Regina and waved enthusiastically, bursting into a run toward the Queen.

A shrill laughter pierced their ears at that moment, scaring even the two adult women, who looked at each other before turning their heads toward the sky.

"Children, inside!" Granny shouted a second later, running to gather one of the younger one in her arms.

The Queen also took only a moment to react. Grace had stopped dead in the middle of her run, and so Regina magically transported herself next to her in a swirl of purple, grabbed her and disappeared again, reappearing inside the kitchen to shrieks of the frightened staff.

"Regina, what-" Grace started, alarmed.

"Don't worry about it. Stay here."

And she disappeared in a violet cloud again.

She reappeared in the middle of the children's playground and looked around. She could see the retreating form of the running kids, the older ones helping the youngsters as best as they could. She glanced up.

But of course, the one with the cute dimples had fallen to the ground.

Regina saw Granny running back to the rear of the group to help him, so she waved her hand in the air to transport the child directly into her arms. The older woman was startled by the sudden weight, but with one last glance at Regina, she ran into the palace – to the kitchen, where no one would look for them – with the small boy clutched to chest.

"I was just saying hello," the mocking voice of her sister reached her ears.

Regina turned around. "Goodbye Zelena."

"So rude," the witch feigned vexation. "Where are your manners?"

"What do you want?" the Queen placated, internally praying her sister wasn't here for a magical display of strength – while she had been able to teleport herself and others, she doubted she could take on anyone in a duel at the moment.

"Why, to see you of course Regina," the Wicked Witch replied with a sarcastic grin. "I wanted to see how my little sister was faring. We haven't seen each other since the day you came back." She pouted. "I was getting lonely."

Regina's hands came to rest on her hips as she replied, "If there is something you want Zelena, I suggest you speak fast. I don't take well to people visiting unannounced."

"Oh nothing in particular," the witch drawled, "just observing." At Regina's scornful silence she added, "You seem quite taken with children. It's something we have in common," winking mischievously at the end of her sentence.

It put Regina on edge (she was a mother, protecting the young was in her blood), and she took a few steps toward her sister. "Zelena, your fight is with me."

"You're right it is," the witch said, meeting her sister halfway, leaning into her personal space and speaking a few inches from her face, "and you have _no_ idea what's coming for you."

With a flick of the hand, she was already hopping on her broom and flying away, Regina watching steadily until she was but a dot in the sky. Zelena had left; everyone, while slightly spooked, was unscathed. She allowed herself a sigh of relief as she made her way back inside the palace, pondering her sister's empty threats. She had no idea what the witch was after, and the question tickled her.

She noticed a toy on the ground and picked it up, rubbing off the dirt from the plush.

She knew a little boy who'd be happy to see his monkey again.


	3. Week 3

"I'm late."

The sun was just peeking from behind the treetops when Snow pushed the door to Regina's chambers, still in her night attire. The Princess stomped inside without so much as a good morning, shutting the door behind her with a hard push. She started pacing the room, not adding a word to her statement, as if her two words were enough to enlighten the Queen on her problem.

"You're going to have to give me more than that, dear," Regina said, turning away from the mirror of her vanity, glancing up at the agitated Princess who had interrupted her morning routine.

The Queen's hair was still down, but her eyes sported smoky eye shadow and long lashes, an element she never left her room without. But this was Snow, and Snow had known her for longer than she cared to admit. Regina didn't really care about the not-quite-Evil Queen state she was in when the Princess entered the room, but she did mind people coming in unannounced, especially at such an early hour.

When there was a lack of answer on her stepdaughter's part, the Queen sighed, watching her pace the room, profound anxiety clearly gnawing at her. Despite Snow's infuriating need to fuss over her stepmother as of late, Regina somewhat appreciated her presence in her life – not that their relationship was anywhere near secrets and confidences level; it would probably never be again considering their past, but the Queen had meant what she said in the note she wrote. Deep down, although she would never admit it, she was grateful someone had tried – was still trying – to save what remained of her life.

Snow suddenly stopped walking and turned to face her. "I'm a week _late_," she repeated.

It took a moment, where Regina stared into her stepdaughter's troubled eyes, for the words to register and for the Queen to put two and two together.

"_Oh_."

The remark seemed to spring the Princess back into an endless back and forth, one that was slowly driving Regina mad.

The situation only worsened when Snow began, "Can you – I don't know – do something?" She flicked her eyes quickly at Regina before moving her gaze in front of her. "Maybe this is a false alarm. Maybe you can check? With magic? I would have asked Blue, but no one has seen the fairies since we came back and that's..."

"No one should trust that moth anyway," Regina commented, but the Princess paid her no mind.

"... that's a whole other problem because we need them to help us fight Zelena. I can't be pregnant right now. This isn't planned – I mean, yes it was, but never this fast. Your sister is out there terrorizing the kingdom and-"

"Stop. Pacing."

The Princess stopped abruptly.

"May I?" Regina indicated her abdomen and, at Snow's nod, pressed her palms to it, letting her magic flow out of her hands and into her stepdaughter's body, sensing her aura, feeling her presence, her very existence in the ether. After a silent moment, her lips curved up. "Seems like true love really does make magic." She removed her hands and stepped back. "Either that or you two have been going at it like monkeys lately."

_Monkeys_. Snow sent her a death glare; Regina's smirk only grew wider.

After a moment, the Princess sat on the bed with a sigh, head down, and Regina's brows knit together in a frown. She had expected Snow to be elated at the news. She knew how the loss of Emma had affected the family, both times. Surely a new baby would make them happy – yet Snow seemed torn by the prospect.

"This wasn't quite how I had planned on telling you," the Princess finally admitted after a weighed silence, Regina letting out a soft _Ah_, lacking the comforting words her stepdaughter wanted to hear. But Snow obviously didn't see it as a deterrent because she stayed, and she looked up at the Queen with big green apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry."

_Of course._ There was the Snow who had fussed over her for the past two weeks.

Regina studied her for a moment; the apology was clear as day on her face, eyes shining as she tried to hold back emotions. (If Snow was overly sensitive this early in the pregnancy, Regina was already dreading the next eight months.) The Queen was slightly taken aback by the restraint her stepdaughter showed – she thought she'd get assailed by baby talk – but she shook her head; there was no need for it.

"I'm happy for you, Snow – truly," Regina said with a warmth and sincerity that surprised even herself. "You and David deserve a second chance."

"So do you," Snow replied, tremor in her voice.

It was Regina's turn to drop her chin. "We both know it's not that simple."

"But it is," Snow insisted. "You'll be a part of its life too, Regina."

She began, "Snow-" but the Princess was already coming toward her and taking her hands.

"I'm not raising this child without you," Snow stated, and if her tone implied more than the new stalemate of their relationship permitted, both of them let it drop to subtext.

Regina's shoulders dropped as she let out a loaded breath. She didn't understand why Snow cared so much, why the Princess was so intent on keeping her around, why she kept on talking and reaching out to her. Snow should have wished the Queen gone from the castle, yet she insisted on having her at meetings, on her ruling by their side. Regina could tell some of their subjects were unhappy about the decision; most of them would rather have her exiled, away from their lives, where she couldn't hurt anyone, where she would be as alone as she made them feel in Storybrooke.

Some days, Regina thought she'd prefer that too.

* * *

Snow looked intently at her stepmother to make sure the meaning of her words was understood. By the hopelessness that veiled Regina's gaze when it met hers, she could tell it was, and it pained Snow to see how unstable her stepmother still was. The woman staring back at her now didn't have an ounce of villainy inside; she was simply broken, and Snow intended to make sure that woman knew she wasn't alone.

She wanted nothing more than to welcome Regina into their family, for her to be a part of this new child's life, to show the world that the Evil Queen had left them long ago. But it seemed Regina found it easier to have people hate her than to open herself to them.

It probably was.

The Princess knew Regina's goodbye note wasn't something the Queen wanted to discuss. She had made that quite clear by avoiding her and David over the past two weeks, but Snow hadn't been able to stop the words from coming out. She wanted her stepmother to know she wanted her in her life, in her future baby's life. She was so proud of her progress, but Regina was so easily scared Snow needed to rein in her enthusiasm a little.

"Besides, you're like its step-grandmother," Snow pondered out loud, eyeing Regina's reaction. The look of pure horror sliding on the Queen's face pleased her, and a wicked grin stretched the Princess's features.

"I'm certainly not," Regina sneered.

"Aunt?" she offered instead.

Regina cocked her head to the side, her answer an unimpressed blank stare.

"Aunt," Snow repeated, her tone decisive.

She thought she saw the hint of a smile on Regina's face.

* * *

The Queen didn't speak as she escorted Grace to the palace entrance, holding on tightly to the girl's hand even though there was no need, muscles tensed in her entire body, dreading the moment she'd have to let go.

After Zelena's last visit, Regina had sent for Grace's adoptive parents, the ones who had raised her under the curse and had considered the young girl as an integral member of their family even when it was broken. The Queen knew Jefferson trusted them. It had been hard at first, but the three adults had united over their one common interest, and they had managed to put their differences aside for her benefit, something Regina sometimes wished she and Emma had been able to do more easily. (It always took some dire circumstance for them to overcome their problems and work together for Henry.)

The happy couple reached out to Grace as she ran into their arms, delighted to see them again. They had left the castle last week with the refugees but came back without hesitation when Regina summoned them.

The Queen watched the reunion bittersweetly, staying a good three feet away from the family, reluctant to interrupt the moment. She knew how precious and short-lived those were.

It was Grace who realised what was really happening, and Regina should have known. She hadn't thought the girl would be so fast to understand the situation.

She pushed her adoptive parents away and turned to Regina. "No."

The Queen's smile in response was a sad one, and she allowed herself to take a few steps toward the group, bending forward to look into Grace's eyes. "This is how it must be," she explained, reaching for the girl's chin with one hand. "The castle is too dangerous. You're safer with them."

Grace's arms reached around Regina then, holding on to her waist with a strength that almost made the Queen stumble.

Regina responded to the hug, falling to knees as she wrapped her arms around the girl's back, pressing Grace to her chest. The regal mask was gone, the mother inside her aching at the loss of yet another child. (Grace wasn't hers, but Regina had hoped she could keep this one safe. It turned out it wasn't something she could do. She didn't deserve a child in her life; she needed to accept that.)

Slowly, the Queen loosened the embrace and Grace stepped back, eyes wet and tears streaming down her face, panting through her sobs.

The Queen wasn't faring better. She could feel the stinging trail of her own tears down her cheeks, but she couldn't bring herself to be self-conscious about it.

She pushed a strand of hair away from Grace's face before taking the girl's hands in her own. "I'm sorry I couldn't get your father."

"It's alright, you tried." Her voice was steadier than Regina's, leaving the adult to wonder exactly when did Jefferson's daughter become the strong young woman she was now.

She cradled Grace's jaw in her hand, her thumb stroking away the tears from her cheek. "I'll keep looking. Belle is working on it too. If we find something, I'll send for you."

"I know," Grace nodded, and Regina smiled, squeezing the hand she still held.

She stood up and accompanied the family outside, hugging the girl one last time before they walked down the cobblestones, into the forest, and away from Zelena's wrath.

When the trio disappeared, the pieces of Regina's heart that had begun to mend with the young girl's laughter cracked again, as she allowed one last tear to roll down her cheek.

_Villains don't get happy endings._

* * *

"How are you holding up?"

Robin broke their unspoken rule of quietude that night, and Regina's muscles stiffened. She didn't want to talk about it, least of all to him, the thief with the smug face and annoying lilt, who should have left her castle with the other peasants last week yet was still sauntering the gardens with her every night.

Regina squared her shoulders and snarled, "I'm still here, aren't I?" her voice bitter and her eyes fixed on the path lying before them.

They were all implying the same thing, Snow and David and the outlaw. They treated her like she was some porcelain doll about to break. She had tried to curse herself _once_, and now they thought she was going to do it every time her life lost its balance. (It was tempting, but she had promised Snow she would be there for the baby, and she intended to keep that promise.)

She hoped for a moment that her comment would rebuff Robin; she had momentarily forgotten that nothing fazed the Prince of Thieves. She had learned it the hard way over the past two weeks, and she knew now to avoid him if she didn't want to create a spectacle out of their heated conversations.

Their nights were supposed to be spent without a word, a common agreement she had thought was clear from their first walk, but it seemed that Robin had other plans tonight, and Regina had to close her eyes and repress a sigh. She already had Snow breathing down her neck; she didn't need anyone else checking up on her like she was some sickly child.

She didn't know why Robin had chosen to stay when everyone else had left. It was poor judgement on his part. The palace was the most likely place to be attacked by Zelena since the witch wanted her sister dead – or worse. Roland had been barely out of harm's way just two days ago, and even that hadn't been enough to make the thief leave. (She briefly contemplated ripping his heart out to have him do as she wanted, but that wasn't a trick she did anymore.)

The Queen halted in her steps and turned to him. "Why are you here?" Her tone left no place for him to dance around the question. She wanted – needed – to know what was keeping him here. (He'd started the conversation; she would have been perfectly happy to have spent this night in silence like they usually did, but he had to open his mouth, and now she was thrown into an internal conflict she would have preferred avoiding.)

"I never properly thanked you for saving Roland," he answered, and she was surprisingly glad that he was directing the conversation somewhere safe, somewhere that didn't involve her emotions – even if thinking of the little boy with two irresistible dimples made her think of another child she'd rather not think about right now, one who would never know her or of her.

But the archer hadn't answered her question.

"Why are you _here_?" she repeated, her voice getting heavy despite trying to avoid it. (She'd tried sleeping tonight, only to be awaken brutally by reliving the moment Emma's yellow bug drove over the town line and Regina was sent back to the Enchanted Forest. In her dream, she had found a way back to the other realm years and years later, only to find her little prince married and happy, and he had no clue as to who she was. She had only been a blurry face in the New York crowd.)

Regina had welcomed Robin's company the first night he'd found her outside, but she'd never understood how or why he'd found her, or why he had stayed. Most people would have been happy to leave her in her misery, to let her grieve alone. Snow was suffocating her when she tried to help, but Robin had known, knew exactly what to say and how to act, and she didn't understand it.

"I thought you could explain it, actually," he stammered as he stepped closer. "I woke up that first night, and somehow I _knew_ I'd find you here." He locked his eyes with hers, and her knees went weak at the profoundness of his gaze, at his presence, so close, yet too far for him to reach out to her – not that she wanted him to; who knew what those hands had touched during the day.

Regina had no explanation for him though. There was no way he could possibly _know_ to find her here; it made no sense, so she questioned him again, "Why?" _Why did you come? Why did you stay? _

She was tired. She had just lost Grace, had been forced to send the young girl with her Storybrooke family for her protection, Snow was pregnant again and she would be happy and glowing, and Regina would have to fake smiles and content soon, and there was this outlaw who wouldn't let her go. No, she corrected herself. She wasn't tired; she was exhausted.

"Because whatever is eating you inside is obviously important," Robin simply stated, and contrary to the Charmings, he didn't pity her. His voice only held concern; a genuine interest in her well-being she didn't deserve and didn't want to believe was true.

She deferred to her usual explanation, "I miss my son," the one that people usually didn't dare second-guess when it came to her morose mood.

Robin, apparently, wasn't like other people. He shook his head. "We both know it's more than that."

She hated him.

_Grace. Henry. Cora. Leopold. Daniel._

Thankfully, her nightmares from Greg's torture had eased since she'd spoken with Snow – they hadn't really _talked_, but it seemed like someone knowing about it had helped. Those weren't the prominent dreams anymore, but they hadn't been the only ones plaguing Regina's nights, and the others came from deeper scars, scars she would never reveal to a thief she barely knew.

She hated how she was so easy to read for him. She shouldn't be; she should know better than to allow herself to be vulnerable, but since day one Robin Hood had infiltrated the cracks of her sturdy armour, and he'd managed to make himself a nest inside her walls.

She suddenly felt the need to get away, to escape, to run. She stomped pass him and back inside the castle and didn't turn back when she heard him call after her. Instead, she accelerated her pace, disappearing before Robin could react.

* * *

The Merry Men had cornered Robin that morning and interrogated him about was their prolonged presence in the palace, a question their leader had no real answer to.

He knew castle life wasn't their preferred lifestyle – it wasn't his either, far too many bad memories involved his father's estate for him to ever appreciate this way of living again – but he had offered his help to these people, and he didn't want to let them down. Snow and Charming had proven to be fair and kind, treating their subjects with respect, and as long as they behaved that way, Robin wouldn't act any different with them than with anyone he aided. The Merry Men weren't just thieves; he always made it a point. They assisted people in need, and right now, these people, even if they were nobles, needed help to fight the Wicked Witch, who seemed intent on having their heads, or at least Regina's – and anyone who stood in her way. Besides, the forest wasn't safe with the flying monkeys roaming around.

While Robin had denied his men's request of leaving, he had also reminded them that the oath they swore didn't bind them, and that they were free to go should they wish it.

They had only grumbled in the end, none had left, and they were all currently seated around him, eating from the royals' table. They were at the opposite end of the Queen and the Charmings, and Robin couldn't help but spare a look at the beautifully complex woman on the other side of the room, the one that truly held him back at the palace, even if he was yet unaware of the pull she had on him.

It had been two nights since he'd seen Regina, and the archer found that he missed her. He had been tempted to knock on her door more than once last night, but he knew he would have been met with cold and harsh words, a behaviour she didn't really mean but that she believed protected her from aching. Other than rile her against him further, his presence at her door wouldn't have changed anything, so he opted against it despite the itching in his feet.

"Daddy?" Robin sensed his son's tiny fingers clench around his shirt and pull, one, two, three times, trying to get his attention. He glanced down at his son, who has insisted on sitting on his lap to eat. Roland was pointing at the other end of the table. "Why isn't Miss Queen happy?"

The thief had to repress a chuckle, ruffling Roland's hair. His boy had taken to calling Regina by her title because Robin referred to her that way whenever he was around his son. The naïve supplement of 'miss' had Robin a hair's breadth away from a laugh every time Roland used it, but the father didn't have it in his heart to correct his son for a harmless nickname.

The outlaw schooled his features into a more solemn expression to answer his son's question. "Grown-ups have lots of responsibilities, Roland. The Queen has to make sure everyone inside the castle is safe." He gently bumped his finger on the tip of his son's nose. "Especially you."

The two chocolate brown eyes looking up at him lit up in amazement. "Me?"

"Yes." It wasn't the exact truth. Robin doubted Regina spent much time thinking about any boy except her own, but the megawatt smile Roland sent him was worth a little twist of the truth.

After a moment, the boy inquired again, "But why does she look tired?"

"Maybe she's having trouble sleeping," he offered, hoping the explanation would satisfy Roland's curiosity.

The real answer was much more complicated, but it wasn't something a child would understand. Robin knew Regina had restless nights – he used to spent hours with her when it happened, wished he still did – but the outlaw didn't think it would matter to his boy. He thought Roland would accept the answer with a nod and move on like he always did.

He thought wrong.

His fearless son jumped off his lap a split-second later, his face suddenly serious. "Hang on, daddy!" he threw his way as he trotted out of the hall, his steps carrying the weight of a little man on a mission.

Robin barely had time to scramble after him.

* * *

By the end of their third week back, when all the villagers had finally left the castle, Snow organized a feast, a huge brunch to celebrate their official return to the Enchanted Forest and the beginning of their new lives as a united kingdom – as a family, a statement that couldn't be truer considering the life growing inside the Princess. So far, only Regina was privy to her secret. The Queen doubted even David knew yet, but Snow would probably tell him soon enough, and then it would be out in the open for the whole land to gossip about.

They were all seated around a long table in the dining hall, where happy chatter and funny conversations filled the room, a lively background noise, as if they had never left this god-forsaken place.

Regina supposed it was true in some ways, but she wasn't feeling the community spirit. All these people laughing and cheering at being back in this land made her feel sick. She didn't understand how they could start over as if nothing had happened; she doubted she ever could. But Snow had dragged her down with her that morning to make sure she would attend, claiming it would get her mind off of things. The Queen knew she was only watching over her now that Grace was gone, but she didn't have the strength to push Snow away. (Perhaps it _would_ help.)

Regina picked at her food, trying to tune out Grumpy's drunken loud voice. It was barely past midday; how the dwarf had already ingested that much liquor was beyond her.

A gentle tug on her skirt brought her back to reality. "Miss Queen."

She hadn't noticed the little mop of brown hair that had made its way to her and who was now looking at her with a sparkle in its eyes and dimples that made her heart melt. His hands were behind his back, having released their grip on her dress when she looked at him. The boy stood tall and proud despite his four years of age, and she couldn't help but grin at his expectant look, almost innocent in nature.

As if encouraged by her smile, he extended his small arm toward her. "To – to help you sleep," he stuttered, dropping his gaze, suddenly shy.

Regina's heart swelled as she took his offering, limb shaking with complete surprise as she settled his gift on her lap.

Roland ran off to where he came from before she could thank him, but she had been able to glimpse the pride in his eyes, the joy of being able to help someone – she was sure he'd learned it from his father. The group of thieves who had joined them treated the unfortunate with care. The young boy still obviously didn't make the difference between a Queen and a villager. Regina thought it was charming and adorable, but it wasn't something she deserved; he needed to know that, he needed to stay away from her.

Her eyes followed Roland until he climbed into his father's lap. She was about to get up and hand him back his gift when her eyes locked with Robin's unwavering stare and she froze.

The concern in his gaze was foreign, his genuine interest in her a path she feared, his presence in the room enough to make her uneasy, and it must have showed in her eyes because the outlaw sent her an apologetic smile, before raising his hands in his own defense – this was all his boy's doing.

Regina looked at Roland again, and after a nudge from his father, the boy sent her a coy smile, one she returned despite her paralyzed state.

She willed her eyes off of Robin, let her gaze travel along the overflowing table and onto her lap, where the plastic eyes of a stuffed monkey stared up at her. She smiled again, truly this time.

* * *

Neal exited the palace with a loud sigh, closing his eyes, rubbing his palms to his face as he tried to collect himself.

He was going crazy. With the villagers gone, there was nothing to keep him occupied besides mundane tasks, and his mind was free to wonder and worry about his missing son, the one who'd forgotten everything about him, and Emma, who would never remember that he was more than the jerk who had left her in jail. (He wasn't sure what 'more' meant, but he knew he would do anything for Emma to know the truth about him.)

He needed to go back, needed to make things right, to make up for lost time, to be there now because he wasn't in the past, especially for Henry.

A sudden squeal to his right startled him and made him turn around. A small form with curly brown hair, still a good sixty feet away, was coming in his direction, trying to escape the two adults coming after him. Unfortunately, Roland wasn't fast enough, and Robin caught him before he could hide, twirling his son around, earning a fit of high-pitched giggles. Little John caught up to them, and Roland immediately asked for help to get out of his father's clutches, only to be tickled by the larger man.

Neal watched the family with a stale taste in his mouth, his heart sinking in his chest. He longed to hold Henry in his arms, and the fact that he hadn't been there to watch his son grow up into the little gentleman he had been when he left him was something that he would forever regret. Watching Robin taking care of Roland made him realize everything he had missed by agreeing to August's plan all these years ago.

"Neal!" Roland's sparkling voice nudged him out of his gloomy state, and he lifted his head to see that Robin had walked to him, his son still in his arms, John not too far behind.

"Hey, Roland!" Neal greeted him warmly, but no matter how hard he tried, his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

The child was far too distracted to notice anything was amiss, but a quick glance at his father told Neal the outlaw was more observant than his son.

Robin handed his son back to John and gestured for Neal to follow him as he started walking in the opposite direction to.

Neal found he couldn't refuse him. Robin had helped him get to Henry a few weeks ago, and the former thief owed him more thanks than he could ever say. So he fell in step beside the outlaw, albeit a little grudgingly. (It was hard to believe not even a full month had passed since their stay in Neverland. It seemed like a lifetime ago.)

"How are you faring?" Robin asked after an awkward silence, going straight to the point. It was something Neal appreciated about the archer. There was no pretence with him; one always knew where they stood.

He answered in kind, a doleful expression on his face. "I don't know."

"Henry?"

"Yeah..." he mumbled, lacking the words to express how he felt but convinced the thief understood; Robin had a son too.

There was a small pause, before Robin started again, "She's is not feeling any better than you are."

It took Neal a moment to understand to whom the archer was referring, but when he did, he curved an eyebrow. "The Queen?" he said, surprised. At Robin's nod, he added, "You've been spending time with her? And you're still alive?"

Robin smiled deflated as he replied, "She's hardly dangerous," his harsh tone surprising Neal, making him pause for a moment. The Prince of Thieves was the last person he expected to hear defending the Queen. His reputation in tales and legends, and Neal supposed in the Enchanted Forest as well, didn't depict him as a friend of royalty.

"Maybe not," Neal conceded; he hadn't meant to anger one of the only people he considered a friend in this land, "but she's not pulling any punches either."

Robin didn't retort anything, and they resumed walking in silence. Eventually, the presence of the outlaw was enough to gently prod Neal into a sharing mood – it must be something about the calming aura Robin projected – and he spoke his qualms aloud. "I barely got to time to know him," he confessed. "One minute, I learned I had a son and I saw the dad I'd spent lifetimes trying to forget. The next thing I knew, my dad was dying trying to save all of us, and Henry was ripped away from me." He failed to even his tone, and his voice rose as he spoke. "It's not fair!"

The outlaw response was a simple: "Life rarely is."

Neal sighed. He knew the thief was right. Robin had lost his wife and had had to raise his son alone. Neal at least had the knowledge that Emma and Henry were both safe. He should be glad, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to hold them in his arms, to protect them himself like he never could.

"I would never try to tell you what to do, but you might want to talk to her," Robin suggested, again tugging him out of the dark corners of his mind.

"That's what Snow said," Neal muttered in a breath. He had spoken to the Princess a few days ago, and the conversation had rapidly taken a turn towards Henry. As much as Snow admired her grandson, she had claimed to be the wrong person to talk about him, but Neal wasn't sure if she was simply trying to turn him away or if she truly meant for him to speak with the Queen. The Charmings had wanted to move on with their lives ever since their arrival in this realm, but Neal found he couldn't, not as long as he hadn't tried everything in his power to get back to his family.

Robin let out a soft _Ah_ and countered, "And why haven't you done so?"

"Regina isn't exactly the most welcoming person," he brooded.

There was a short-lived silence before Robin replied, his voice suddenly empty – or was he trying to hide a bitter feeling it shouldn't contain? "She wants people to think she's better off on her own."

Neal turned his head toward his companion, scanning the expression on his face intently. Robin's eyes were furtive, instead of the usual way the outlaw met everyone's eyes dead on. His hands were clasp behind his back, where his fingers fiddled nervously with the hem of his sleeves.

"How do you know she's not?" Neal asked, choosing not to call Robin on his evasiveness.

"I just... I do," was Robin's enigmatic answer, but his tone was final, and Neal understood there was nothing to add on the subject.

He supposed the outlaw was right. Neal _personally_ had nothing against the Queen. If not for her history with his son's grandparents, he would have treated Regina just like any other person. But Emma and Henry had dragged him into the Charming family, and he had had his father to worry about. Regina had been the last person on his mind, and even now, he had forgotten about her.

But if he deserved a second chance with his family, so did she.

With that thought firmly in place in his mind, he looked as his companion again, and wondered out loud, "I'll be honest, I never thought you'd stay at the palace this long Robin."

"Me neither," the thief admitted, "but you needed assistance when you arrived, and I'm always happy to help those in need." Robin paused, seemed to think, choosing his words wisely, and added, "I've only ever had a problem with nobles who didn't treat their subjects with respect. Sadly, for a time, it seemed to be most of them. But Snow and David have only been fair and just. I have no qualms about helping them as long as they keep on treating everyone in their kingdom with the same respect."

"I'm sure they'll never disappoint you."

"I don't think they will," Robin agreed with a smile, as they resumed their walk.

They chatted about their sons and exchanged a few stories, Neal letting Robin do most the talking since his repertoire of anecdotes wasn't as extensive, the little time he had spent with his son disrupted by their fight against evil. Robin also told him about his life prior to being a thief, what made him leave his home, and as the outlaw spoke, Neal let the idea of speaking to Regina simmer in the back of his head. The Queen wasn't the most approachable person, but perhaps she'd be willing to talk to him about Henry. She was probably as desperate as he was at being without him. Perhaps Snow and Robin were right; perhaps Regina only needed someone to talk to.

* * *

Night found her walking the castle grounds again, the dreams she wished away still preventing her from sleeping. Her lungs took the opportunity to replenish their supply of fresh air, the cool breeze sending a chill through her body. Regina watched the high moon as it passed over the left turret, casting a silver glow on her surroundings. There was something enchanting about the gardens at night.

It wouldn't be long now, and her chest rose and fell at a quicker pace, hands joining in front of her at her navel.

"I didn't think you'd come tonight." The annoyingly charming voice of the thief resonated behind her, and she turned around cautiously, just in time to notice his gaze raking her body from head to toe. (She hadn't given a second thought to her appearance tonight. Her hair was down, and she was in her nightgown, face free of make-up, but perhaps he saw something she didn't. She couldn't bring herself to care.)

Their midnight strolls had very much had the allure of romantic rendezvous, Regina realised that now, and after what had happened with Roland at brunch, she needed to make things crystal clear between them. She had allowed him to follow her for too many nights. She didn't want his concern or his attention or anything else other than his silence, a rule he had already broken three days ago – she hadn't seen him since.

The Queen didn't even know why she had allowed _this_ to go on for so long. It was time to put a stop to it. The thief needed to leave her castle.

"Why would you think that?" Regina asked, her voice formal, regal, cold, but her sudden nervousness betrayed her.

Robin stepped closer, not quite invading her space, but definitely too close for comfort. "You've been distant."

Her reply was sharp. "I don't get close to people."

"Why?"

She remained silent, inhaling deeply, and her gaze flicked down no matter how hard she tried to keep it steady. There was something about the way he studied her that was overwhelming, and she held back the water rushing to her eyes. She wasn't about to cry in front of him again. Once was enough; he didn't deserve that kind of win a second time.

The outlaw stepped forward, and if her hands hadn't been clasped together, she was pretty sure he would have reached for one of them, so she stepped back to prevent it, keeping a safe distance between them. He noticed – of course, he'd noticed – and didn't push forward again, something she was glad for; she didn't think she could have handled his proximity.

"You're afraid to get to hurt." It wasn't a question, but his tone perked up at the end of his sentence as if it was one.

It definitely wasn't one she would answer.

She held his scrutinizing gaze; she wouldn't back down no matter how uncomfortable he made her. She wasn't one who needed cuddling or people hovering around or prompting her out of her comfort zone. It was her comfort zone because it was safe, and this outlaw was overstepping.

"I have Roland's toy if you give me a minute to collect it." She changed the subject, back to something harmless, hands rounding her waist to clasp in her back, shoulders straightening, composing herself, trying to chase away the emotional downfall the thief seemed intent on sending her into.

Robin shook his head. "There is no need. I'm sure you can give it back to him yourself."

"Are you trying to see me again?" she teased – it was out before she could stop it.

"I always want to see you."

"You shouldn't," she warned, her tone low, almost guttural, "and you should know better than to let your son near me."

Not heeding her earlier signal, Robin moved toward her. "What I _know_ is that my son is perfectly safe in your company," he countered, head tilting to the side.

"You won't be saying that when Roland gets hurt," Regina chided, holding her ground even as he stepped even closer, back within arm's reach again.

"The Queen I know wouldn't harm a child."

She scoffed, leaned in closer and growled, in what was supposed to be a menacing tone, "I'm not the Queen you know."

When she turned around, he let her walk away, and Regina quickly discovered strolling the gardens alone wasn't as soothing as it was with Robin by her side. There had been something inherent about his company, something that just felt _right_, and she couldn't explain how and why, and she hated it – _hated him_ – and the fact that he could get to her so easily.

* * *

The soft caress of the sun on her skin gently tugged her out of the haze of sleep. She rolled onto her side, facing away from her window, refusing to answer the call of daylight.

Slowly Regina squinted her eyes open, protesting at the sudden brightness, and lifted her head up from the pillow, still expecting a clock to tell her the time. The room bathed in sunlight, the sun high in the sky, and she wondered how she hadn't woken up before. It seemed to be close to midday, which meant she had slept right through breakfast.

It took a moment for the realisation to settle in. No nightmares. Not one single nightmare.

She glanced at the monkey resting on bedside table. She hadn't slept with it – she was an adult after all, quite capable of handling her own scary dreams – but for a night, it had allowed her a restful slumber. (A part of her wondered if maybe Robin had helped too, but she refused to think about the irritable outlaw who wouldn't leave the castle. He was only trouble.)

Snow found her in the courtyard under her apple tree an hour and a half later, her voice carrying an unnerving concern. "You missed breakfast."

Regina turned around. "I was sleeping."

Snow paused at the words. "You mean you slept through breakfast?" she asked, and when Regina nodded, she added, "I'm glad."

They exchanged a small smile, an understanding passing silently between them. The dark circles under Regina's eyes had been impossible to hide after two weeks of restless nights. They were still there, but they would disappear with time and her newfound ability to rest. Finally.

* * *

There had been another reason for which Snow sought out Regina however, and they both started up the path leading to the castle together.

The Princess was relieved to hear her stepmother had slept through the night. It had been obvious to anyone who dared observe the Queen for more than a minute that coming back to the Enchanted Forest had been hard on the stoic monarch. Snow knew the hard front she put up was only her (unhealthy) way of dealing with emotions she didn't want to face, but the fact that they were now coexisting in the same space in a semi-peaceful setting spoke a long way about how Regina had changed.

Snow wondered if Robin Hood had anything to do with why her stepmother slept full nights again. After the first time she had spotted them walking leisurely under the moonlight, Snow had sneaked out to her balcony when David wasn't watching, and every time, the Queen and the outlaw stood within a few feet of each other. She didn't know what was happening, but before she could inquire about the thief, Regina spoke up.

"So, why haven't you told your Prince Charming yet?"

The Princess hung her head low, guilt casting a shadow on her face. (She made a mental note to ask Regina about Robin later.)

"So?" The Queen pressed on.

Snow sighed, "David…" She looked up to the sky and down again, searching for the right words. "There's something he's not telling me."

"If you want marriage advice, you're asking the wrong person."

"No, I just..." She let out a heavy breath again.

David had seemed off for the past three days, and she was convinced he was hiding something, something he thought would hurt her – that was the only reason why he wouldn't tell her what was gnawing at him. Maybe Gold's cure for dream shade had side effects; maybe the poison was too strong; maybe it had been too late.

Regina interrupted her sombre musings. "Talk to him."

"What if he doesn't want to talk to me?"

"As much as it pains me to admit, if a sleeping curse, a war, the Dark Curse, and Neverland couldn't stop him from getting back to you," the Queen recounted, her tone almost motherly, "I doubt a talk will put him off."

Snow glanced at her sideways, surprised by the warmth of her tone, and she saw the shift in Regina's features, her expression cooling, the lines of her face stretching into indifference, her shoulders squaring when she noticed how compassionate she had sounded.

"But then he's your husband," the Queen said in afterthought, putting as much bitterness as she could in her voice, but Snow was already half-smiling.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the wait. Hopefully it was worth it! My beta pointed out to me that I've hinted at Robin's past in this chapter. It's something that I plan on exploring later on. I don't know when or how exactly, but I have my own personal headcanon about how Robin came to be a thief. But we still have lots of chapters to go, so I need to keep stuff for later. ;)  
_


	4. Week 4

___**A/N:** I'm very very sorry the delay. School and some though days at work got the better of me. Good news though: this chapter is about 3K words longer than th_e _previous ones. Thank you to accio-ambition for being the most fantastic beta, to my fellow OQ writers (ninzied , somewhereapart , emily31594 ) for pushing me to write even when I didn't feel like it, and to adi-dion for being by my side (online) every day._

_________As a second note: the flashbacks contained in the chapter take place during the first 3 weeks of the missing year. I should have planned that interaction better, but it wasn't only I saw a post by spookycurtains that I knew how to take that friendship._

* * *

The clicking sound of her heels retreated down the hall as she stormed out of the council chamber. It had taken all her self-control not to simply vanish in a purple swirl, but her magic being the reason she needed to leave, she wasn't about to attract any more ire by using it to escape.

She had stood from her seat, sending a death glare across the table, and fled the room before her instincts took over, leaving only stunned silence behind her. No one would dare come after her. (Or maybe one person would, but Regina would make sure to send her back on the way she came.)

"Regina, wait!" a voice called after her, though not the one she expected.

The Queen stopped mid-stride and turned her head around to see Neal walking toward her, the door to the war room swivelling behind him at the end of the corridor. _This was new._

She shrugged off of her surprise and snarled, "Can I help you?" briefly wondering if it was a tag game the Charmings played. One time Snow would talk to her, then David, Robin was probably a part of it too, and now they had included Neal in their little circle of '_let's try to save the Queen'._ She regretted having given that letter to Snow. The little brat couldn't keep anything secret.

Regina wouldn't let them win. Snow might have dragged David, Robin and Neal into getting the Queen to open up and talk to someone, but she had already told the Princess – she was beyond saving.

Neal stopped a few feet from her, a respectable distance, not entering her private space, yet close enough that they could discuss in muted voices and be the only ones who would hear.

"Yes, you can help me," he said frankly but gently, and Regina's mind paused for a second. There was something in his tone that sounded reassuring and familiar, something preventing her from spiting back a pre-made retort, smothering her rough edges.

She squared her shoulders and impeccably straightened her back despite the tension slowly leaving her body – _appearance was everything_, her mother had taught her. Her eyebrow arched up, and she titled her head to the side, warning, "If Snow sent you here to ta—"

"She didn't," Neal interrupted, quickly following with, "Belle and I are leaving for my father's castle as soon as she's done perusing your library." Interest sparkled in Regina's eyes, prompting him to continue. "We think there might be a way to revive him."

"You want to go back." It wasn't a question, but her voice raised a little to form one.

Neal nodded once and cocked his head to the side. "Don't you?"

_Yes. _The answer was immediate, easy, no hesitation. She would go back in a heartbeat if given the chance, if merely to steal a glimpse of her little prince. "More than anything," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, the following sigh a confession from deep within her soul.

But they both knew Snow would never let the Queen out of her sight. The Princess meant well, but her overbearing nature had days ago driven Regina mad. She wasn't a prisoner of the palace as she had been when she was a young Queen, but she wasn't exactly free either. She couldn't choose to leave, couldn't simply disappear like she wanted because she would be followed – would be _found_. It was their agonizingly cheesy family motto, and it apparently now applied to her as well. They would never leave her alone.

Neal must have sensed her derailing thoughts because he nudged her out of her them and into a walk with him.

Regina found herself following, outside, onto the cobblestones and escaping into the forest, away from prying eyes and ears. It was a gloomy day in the Enchanted Forest. Heavy clouds of different shades of grey covered the sky. It would rain soon: good for the crops, but not for Regina's morale. They ventured off the path, deeper into the woods, the silence surprisingly easy. (She was used to talking walks with Robin when she couldn't sleep, and everything had just fallen into place with them, as if they had always done so, something she still didn't understand, but that she never dared questioned. Sauntering out of the castle with Neal by her side was stranger, but not as uncomfortable as she had thought it would be. Apparently the animosity she had shared with his father hadn't been passed on to the son.)

It was a moment before Regina realised her irritation had subsided, but when she did, she sighed and closed her eyes, drawing a long breath, filling her lungs with pines and oak trees, mixed with the distinctive smell announcing the coming rain. She had always loved nature._ It's not befitting of a Queen_, her mother would say, but Regina had loved it, still did.

"What was he like?" Neal broke the silence. She turned her head to him, and he specified, "Henry. Growing up, I mean."

Regina stilled, tension crawling up her spine, settling into her shoulders. _This_ was exactly why she didn't spend one-on-one time the extended Charmin family. They were all so intent on making her talk, Robin and Neal included, and it was exactly the opposite of what she wanted to do.

"Did Snow put you up to this?" she attempted, suddenly desperate to change the subject.

Neal didn't deny it, but he didn't confirm her suspicions either. Instead, he simply answered with an honest, "I've been meaning to talk to you for weeks. I just didn't know really know how to start up a conversation."

She raised an eyebrow, tempted to ask again _But Snow talked to you?_ but thought better of it. It didn't really matter who put him up to this, be it Snow or David, or god forbid, _Robin Hood_. She didn't want to talk about it, and she wouldn't.

Her confidence wavered at Neal's next words. "I'm dying without him," the man admitted, voice quavering, cracking by the third word, and he didn't need to specify who _him_ was. Regina looked down, avoiding the intensity of his gaze as he pursued, "I just need _something_ to hold on to." It was almost a plea, making her head tilt back up, and it was as if she could see the man in front of her in an entirely new light. Of all the people in this land, he was probably the only one who could really understand how she felt. Henry was his son too, and everyone he loved was either dead or forced to forget him. "I missed so much, Regina. I missed him growing up: his first words, his first steps!" He rubbed his face with a hand, then ran it through his hair. "I'll never forgive myself for that."

She found herself shaking her head. "There's nothing you could have done."

"But it doesn't stop me from wondering every day if there was _something_ I could have done different!"

Regina could only stare at him. She sometimes thought the same thing. But then if she changed something from her past, maybe she would never even have known Henry, maybe he wouldn't have existed in the first place, and that prospect was more frightening than not seeing him again.

At her silence, Neal insisted, "Will you talk to me about him?" His shoulders sagged down. "Just give me _something_ – anything."

He sounded desperate, and Regina understood desperation better than she cared to admit. This was for him, and him only. The Charmings and Robin Hood might stick their noses where they didn't belong, but this was the father begging her for a piece of his son, and she was the only one who could give it to him.

She sat down next to him on a fallen log, stretched her legs in front of her, giving up the queenly appearance. It seemed wrong to be the Queen while talking about Henry. (She made a mental note to deal with Robin Hood later. The outlaw still needed to go, but this was more important than some petty thief who had overstayed his welcome.)

"Whenever he had a nightmare, he would come up to my room in the middle of the night and stand at the foot of my bed, tall and strong, and pretend that everything was fine, that he only wanted to make sure I was alright." She paused. "I think he was making sure I hadn't abandoned him." A sad smiled tug at the corner of her lips as memories washed over her. "He had no idea he had been adopted yet, but I think he remembered, somehow, even if he was too young to fully understand it.

"I would settle him next to me, and we'd hide under the covers with a flashlight, and I'd tell him a story until he fell asleep."

Regina grew quiet after that, hollowed eyes fixed on the ground, until she felt Neal's hand on her forearm, and she looked at him, confused by the gesture.

He smiled, warm and thankful, "I'm glad he had you," and tightened his fingers around her arm, offering a gentle squeeze.

"I'm not sure he'd say the same thing."

"It's a good thing he did then," Neal objected, angling his body towards hers.

She tilted her head up, ashamed of the water rapidly surging in her eyes, the unexpected compliment jolting more memories, bringing them closer to the surface, all the ones she had tried to push down and down over the last few weeks. She didn't deserve any of Neal's kind words. His father, were he alive, would surely laugh at the both of them right now. She could almost hear it, that high-pitch snicker she loathed.

It was quickly replaced by Henry's quiet voice. _You're not evil. You're my mom. _She was hanging on to those words like a lifeline, but she sometimes wondered if they were genuine. She was sacrificing the one thing she loved to save everyone at the time. It was easy to think of her as good in that _one_ moment, but it didn't mean it was what Henry really thought (and there was no way to know for sure because now he had no idea who she was and would never know). Doubt had been her only constant companion since the day they arrived in this cursed land, and letting hope in wasn't as easy as Snow White seemed to think.

Her chest felt empty without him, without his hopeful eyes and his innocent belief, in life and in her, characteristics he undoubtedly inherited from the other side of his family (because there was no way she had taught him that – her life was sad and dark and void of hope).

"Are you sure there is no way to go back?" his voice again pulled her away from the darkness of her own thoughts.

She sniffled, shook her head. "The curse creates a breach between worlds, allowing a number of people to slip through, and others to be pulled from different places. It's how Storybrooke was created in the first place. Reversing it ultimately closed the gap and created a wall between our realms. It was the only way to stop Pan's plan. We can't go back without another curse," she explained, before amending the last part with, "That's what I understood from your father's lessons anyway, but it's his curse, he knows more than I do."

Neal nodded. "It's why we _have_ to go to his castle. If there is a way to bring him back, he could help us get back."

They observed each other as an agreement passed between them. "I'll talk to Snow," Regina said before reporting her gaze in front of her.

* * *

_I'm not the Queen you know_, she had said, bitter, her tone nippy like the breeze, and she'd walked away, leaving him alone in the dark of the night to wonder about what he'd said that had set her on the edge.

It was true though. Robin couldn't claim to know the Queen really well – he doubted anyone could; she kept herself guarded, locked away – but the outlaw knew there was more to the slight tremor that accompanied Regina's voice. She spat out venomous words, her regal, off-putting attitude masking the woman, the _broken_ woman she was, one that was never given the opportunity to grieve the wrongs she suffered. (Of course, Robin still knew very little about the Queen to make such assumptions, but there were stories, the kind he'd heard through the grapevine, of a beautiful young Queen barely older than the King's daughter, but he didn't trust those. If he did, he likely wouldn't have shared casual strolls with the one the stories liked to call the Evil Queen.)

When the Queen's guards found him in his room to escort him to her quarters, the thief was apprehensive. He hadn't seen Regina alone in two days, not since she'd warned him against her, against the villainy she was still convinced she possessed – that she insisted others believed she still did.

He'd seen her at the other end of a hallway, discussing with Snow and David, or talking to Belle as the two made their way to the library. He'd watched her door from afar at night, coming back from a walk, alone, hoping that she would come out and he could apologize, but she hadn't.

Being summoned by her orders had surprised Robin, and a knot formed in his stomach.

He wasn't afraid of the Queen. If anything, the outlaw understood the pain she was going through, the one she claimed out loud at least. If Roland were ripped away from him, if he had been forced to let go of his son forever, he wouldn't be unlike Regina, a hollowed version of whom he once was.

The difference between them was the company Robin kept. He had friends, a family of sorts, something that couldn't be said of Regina because she didn't let anyone in her personal sanctuary. The Princess wanted in, and sometimes she did get through to her, when the Queen allowed it, Robin could see that much, but Regina was reserved most of the time and preferred to be alone. However the outlaw refused to believe she was evil. Not anymore.

For a while, Robin had thought that by some miracle he could get through to her too. He thought he had at least, while they sauntered outside in silence as the moon circled the palace, but he had opened his mouth, said something he shouldn't have, got too close for comfort, and their late night strolls had ended as abruptly as they had started.

He stepped inside the Queen's chambers while the guards waited at the door. Regina was standing by her balcony, red velvet dress hugging to her curves like a second skin, matching the colour of her lips, smoky eyes piercing one's soul with a simple glance, her face composed, giving away a perfect picture of stone cold royalty. She was an exquisite woman, the Queen, wrapped up in veil of mystery that made her all the more alluring.

She greeted him without words, without even acknowledging his presence, simply indicating a bundle on the table in front of the fireplace. This was _the Queen_, down to business, frigid, and unapproachable.

Robin respected the distance she placed between them and cautiously made his way to the package she pointed at, picking it up and unfolding the fabric, revealing a pack of ten arrows: thin and long shaft, detailed fletching, but what really set them out was the tip. The pure gold shone of reds and oranges as it reflected the dancing fire in the hearth. The sight of it made Robin gasp, and he balanced the pack in one hand, extending his other arm to test the edge of the point, hissing when he almost cut himself. He smiled, content, and looked up, finding the Queen's eyes observing him intently, lips pressed together tightly, something between a scowl and a satisfied smile.

"Consider it payment for our however brief partnership," she declared, the first words uttered between them since he entered the room. "Not that I ever needed your help to take back the castle."

Had the atmosphere in the room been friendlier, Robin would have chuckled at that. _That explained it._ He knew exactly what this gift was, what it meant, but he played along for a moment, making her think she'd won, taking one arrow in his hand, rolling it between his fingers, weighing it, testing its composure, approving with a nod.

She had outdone herself for this simple thank you gift; her ulterior motives could not have been clearer.

Putting back the arrow and its bundle, the thief eyed the Queen sideways. He started slowly, "If I didn't know any better," narrowed his eyes, "I'd say you were trying to bribe me," and looked directly at her, "Your Majesty." He emphasized the title, setting down his present back on the table.

Regina's laugh was nervous. "Can't a queen simply thank the man who helped her?"

"Aye. A queen certainly can," the archer agreed, taking one step toward her, his eyes locking with hers, "but we both know that's not what you're doing here."

Her lips curved up in a smile, one meant self-effacing. "And what exactly am I doing, thief," she defied him, lifting her chest a notch, standing her ground, "if you know me so well?"

Robin closed the distance between them a little more, the air around them suddenly heavier. "You want to buy my silence," he risked in a low, throaty voice.

"Your silence?" Regina snickered. "Why would you think that?"

Robin took the last step separating them, bringing him to the edge of her personal space, his gaze boring into hers, close enough for his body to be completely aware of the proximity of hers but not quite touching. "You want me gone," he said, barely above a whisper.

Regina took in a breath, making her chest rise and fall next to his, and he had to do everything in his power not to gawk. (He'd be a fool if he didn't find the Queen attractive or react to her closeness.) Instead, he kept his eyes focused on hers; using the inch or two he had over her height to his advantage.

When she didn't speak, he continued, "What would Snow White say if she knew what really transpired when you came to lower the shield?"

Her solid queen mask faltered for a moment, and she took one step back from the outlaw. "You wouldn't."

"Would I?" It wasn't threat, far from it, and, quite frankly, he had no intention of speaking to the Princess behind Regina's back, but she had to understand that her petty stratagem to get him to leave wouldn't work.

She opened her mouth to reply, some witty retort no doubt, but no sound came out.

Robin couldn't help but smirk. "It's not often Her Majesty is speechless," he pointed out, testing her, reaching deep within to prod _Regina_ out of the Queen.

This time, she swallowed.

And there it was: the flicker in her eyes, the change in perception, the regality slipping, shoulders slightly sagging, fingers flexing, the woman emerging: the one who'd lost Henry, had to give up Grace, and who was lonelier that she would ever admit. She blinked, and all of her sudden her eyes were shining in the soft glow of the roaring fire.

Robin recognized a grieving soul when he saw one. Regina was so desperate she had been looking at ways to escape her own turmoil of emotions. He was glad she didn't go through with the sleeping curse, but he wished he could help her find a reason to go on. _Someone to destroy_, as she had said, clearly wasn't enough. It could be a crutch for a short time, but one day, she would need to walk free of restraints. But Robin couldn't help her if she wasn't ready to help herself.

The thief stepped back, giving her time and space to recoup. She immediately wrapped her arms around her chest and bit her lip. Where moments ago she scrutinized and defied him with a simple twitch of her brow, she now looked like a child who had lost her way in the darkness, unable to find home. She wouldn't meet his eyes and instead found something fascinating to observe at her feet.

In that moment, Robin again witnessed the pain tormenting the Queen – how vulnerable she was inside despite her unflappable exterior in the throne room – her façade fully falling for the first time since she'd built it back up. It reminded him of their first meeting, of breaking into the castle, of the woman who was looking forward to go to sleep for an undetermined period of time to avoid her pain.

Snow White knew Regina hadn't planned on coming back. The Queen had left her a letter saying as such, the Princess had told him when she had tried to get more information out of him, but Robin had kept the details of what had happened that night privy to Regina and he, and the outlaw wouldn't betray her, unless the circumstances were dire and he feared for her life again.

Since Robin had no intention to tell anyone what happened that first night, Regina's _gift_ had no real purpose besides confirming Robin's suspicions that she feared Snow's reaction, and that, even if she claimed to be fine, she wasn't.

He wished there was a way he could help her through her sorrows, (he blamed his pull to her on the fact that he was a parent too, and that he wouldn't be able to bear losing Roland, but in truth, he couldn't explain why he kept coming back to her), but he realized the polite thing was to get out of her bedchambers and leave her be. He doubted his assistance would be welcomed anyway.

Without adding anything, Robin grabbed his arrows, politely bowed even though she wasn't looking, and made his way towards the exit to her chambers.

The doors closed in front of him before he could reach the threshold.

When he turned on his heels, Regina was already halfway across the room, walking toward him.

"Why do you care?" she demanded, face relieved of its usual stoic and hard lines. Her voice sounded broken and lost, and he could see the shimmering trail of a tear on her cheek.

It pained him to see her so upset over something she had no control of, and he knew whatever words he offered would be empty and meaningless in face of her struggle, but still, he tried.

"Because I know what it's like to lose someone you care about." He paused, making sure she was listening to him. "Life doesn't stop because you hurt, Regina – I tried that once, and it didn't work. The people you loved and lost, and grieved for, are a part of you. They always will be. You can't let them go, but you can use the strength they gave you to find what you're looking for."

She let out a puff of air, dismissive of his words the moment they were out of his mouth. "You sound so certain of that," she said in-between clenched teeth, hands coming to rest on her hips. The moment was over; the Queen was back in charge.

Refusing to let this infuriating woman win this round, Robin smirked, "That's because I am," staring into her eyes, eyebrow lifting a notch, watching intently as she seemed to take his words in.

After a breath, she cracked the smallest of smiles too, the curve in her lips flattening she moment she noticed her slip.

Robin felt pride seep into his heart. It wasn't much, but it was progress, and it made an interesting challenge, one he decided to take on. Rehabilitating the Queen was a daring prospect, a dangerous one too. He knew how much she hated having Snow breathing down her neck, and he would have to be subtle about it, or she would catch on and whatever headway he had made would crumble. If people asked him why he stayed at the castle, he would say it was the safest place for his boy, but he would also work towards a bigger goal – making Her Majesty realize second chances were possible.

The silent staring contest came to an end when Regina opened the double doors to her bedchambers with a flick of her hand.

Robin took it as his invitation to leave and dipped his head slightly. "Thanks for the gift, Your Majesty."

He left without being interrupted this time, but he could sense her eyes burning holes in her back as he retreated down the corridor.

* * *

_Their first meeting happened by accident. _

_The sound was muffled and indistinct, but it definitely came from one of the rooms in this corridor._

_With the castle housing several Storybrooke refugees, Regina had lost track of who occupied which quarters. People had been moved around to accommodate the increase in numbers as more asked for hospitality at their gates. The Charmings didn't turn back anyone, landing out a helping hand to anyone who needed it. It was who they were, and Regina was used to it, but that didn't stop her from thinking her — _their_, she corrected herself — palace was too crowded for her liking._

_She spent most days in her room or in the woods, sometimes in the library, avoiding Snow's constant hovering and the accusatory glances of the common folks. They despised her; hated having to rely on the Queen that once threatened their lives even though she had just saved them from Pan. Regina could see it in the way they nervously glanced at her from the corner of their eyes whenever she entered a room, acting as if she couldn't notice them, but they all knew exactly how they were looking at her. (They probably did it on purpose.)_

_And it was working. The Queen felt out of place in what was once her castle._

_She came out of her room for meetings and meals. Missing them wasn't worth a confrontation with Snow. _

_She also left her bedchambers when she couldn't sleep at night._

_Which was currently the case. _

_She didn't trust sleep, and twisting and turning in her own bed has stopped being interesting three days ago. She got up and changed into a slightly-more appropriate attire, intending to spend some time by her apple tree. It had always brought her solace; it was the one constant element throughout her life._

_She was four levels down, only one more before she would feel the fresh air in her lungs, when she heard the muted sound of strangled sobs and halted in her steps. If this had happened during the day, she would have lifted her chin and walked away, but it was night and she was alone, and the little curious voice in her head was harder to ignore when she wasn't surrounded people who were only waiting for her to slip and go back to her old ways — so she followed she noise._

_The Queen reached the second to last door at the end of the hall before taking three steps back to the previous one. It was louder here. There was definitely somebody crying on the other side._

_She knew all the rooms in the palace, knew this one was only large enough for one person. Were she to knock, there wasn't much chances of encountering a crowd of people who would throw her out the moment they saw her._

_Her fist collided with the hardwood three times, and she waited. _

_And waited._

_It took a few minutes, but she finally heard someone shuffling inside. The door swung open to reveal Belle in her nightgown, having obviously taken a bit of time to straighten her hair and compose her features, but not enough to hide her bloodshot eyes._

_"Belle, I…" Regina started, not quite sure what she wanted to say. "Are you alright?" It sounded like a good enough start, something normal people would ask._

_The usually reserved younger woman clenched her jaw. "Do I look alright to you?" she asked in response, her wide eyes meetings Regina's and holding her gaze._

_"No," Regina agreed, leading them into an awkward silence she punctuated by looking around them, searching for the appropriate words to use in a situation like this one. "Do you want to talk about it?" she offered gracelessly, a little off. _

_She didn't do this often, but she had been curious, and now she was facing Belle, and it seemed rude to not say anything. (Despite what everyone thought, she wasn't completely without a heart. That had been her mother.)_

_Belle let out a trembling breath, shaking her head, disbelief clouding her features. "Why would I want to talk to you?" She sounded offended, and before Regina could respond, she was panting, "The woman who imprisoned me in a tower in her castle and put me in an asylum for 28 years — who's done nothing but mentally and physically torture me, ever since we've known each other!"_

_"I…"_

_"Get out."_

_She did. Regina turned on her heels because there wasn't anything she could say. There it was again: proof. Proof that she was evil and wicked and that nothing she did could erase her past. _

_She sighed after four steps and turned back, against her better judgement, but they were alone and no one would see._

_"I'm sorry," the Queen said, as genuinely as she could. She was, she simply didn't know what to do about it._

_Belle only rolled her eyes and scoffed, closing the door with a hard push, leaving Regina alone in an empty corridor trying to push back down the nagging feeling of failure that plummeted inside her._

_She had saved them, those farmers and villagers and peasants she loathed during her reign; had saved all of them multiple times over the last few months, and they still couldn't look her in the eyes when she passed them in the hallways. She couldn't even apologize without being laughed at, even to Belle, who had been the Dark One's girlfriend up until a few weeks ago, who had worked side by side with them when they needed to destroy Pan. If she couldn't forgive her actions as the Evil Queen, who could?_

_She would always be the villain, no matter how hard she tried to change._

* * *

_Belle deliberately caused their second meeting._

_Regina had cast the fertilization spell the day before. Snow had tried talking to her afterwards, but the Princess had left the Queen's quarters without many answers from her stepmother. Regina had thought she needed to be alone. Solitude was better than half-truths and attempts at discussion bound to end with someone hurting._

_When the door opened, the Queen spoke before looking, "I told you to leave, Snow," her tone flat and angry, wishing she would be left alone._

_"I accept your apology."_

_She was the last person Regina expected to see. The Queen turned her head toward the door, now closed, and watched silently as Belle walked toward her._

_"You might not be perfect," the younger woman declared, "but you are changing." She paused, then added, "If I've accepted Rumple's past, I can find a way to accept yours." She was now standing right next to the bed, and Regina felt quite small compared to her._

_It prompted her to apologize again. "I'm sorry for what I did to you."_

_Belle nodded this time, pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down. It was a peace offering of sorts, or so Regina understood from the look in Belle's eyes. The Queen had fully proven her good intentions by casting a spell benefiting the land, with no personal gain. It was something she needn't have done, and it had made the younger woman realize that she couldn't forever hold Regina's past against her. It was like she said: she'd forgiven the Dark One; she could find a way to forgive the Evil Queen. _

_They spoke of the harvest they would have in a few months, thanks to Regina's spell; of the hunting trips they would have to take to refill the kitchens, reserves slowly thinning; of life slowly getting back to normal, whatever normal was. They banished the topic of their pasts, stayed on the future, and Regina found that Belle's company was much more agreeable than Snow's. Less annoyance, more possibilities._

_The Queen lost track of time easily, and before long Granny was coming in with dinner, excusing herself to grab a second plate when she saw Belle with Regina._

_The two found a sort of common ground, not quite friendship, but acceptance, and Regina started to realize that, as much as she didn't want company, she didn't really want to be alone either._

* * *

_The third time Regina found herself talking to belle, it was half-chance, half-organized, as Regina knew where to find the woman and she was suddenly in need of her help. (She just hadn't planned on them actually _talking_.)_

_Saying goodbye to Grace was one of the hardest things Regina had done, not as hard as leaving Henry, never, but definitely somewhere close. She had thought — had hoped — that her happy ending would at least have a child in it, if not hers, someone else's, someone she could help, but it turned out she was only an expert at ruining lives and separating families, not the other way around. She'd sent away Grace, just as she had Henry, to give her her best chance, but it had again crushed something inside the Queen._

_She pushed open the doors to the library moments after Grace left with her adoptive parents, sniffling back tears. There had to be a way to go to Wonderland and bring back Jefferson, and she vowed to herself she would find it, for Grace, for Jefferson, for Henry, for every family who had been separated by her hand for whom it was to late to do anything about it. She needed to right her wrongs, one by one. She would start with the Hatter._

_Regina spotted Belle at a table, surrounded by books on the dark arts, a few of them open, other piled up, some discarded to the ground, and aimed straight for her._

_"I need your help." She sat down at an empty chair at the table, making Belle look up from her book, her forefinger coming to rest on a line mid-page, where she had stopped reading. _

_"You," she paused, incredulous, "need _my_ help?" _

_Regina opened her mouth only to close it a second later, hesitating. Her relationship with Belle was on rocky grounds at best. They had attained a sort of truce, but the Queen didn't blind herself in thinking that there was more to it. Belle had visited her bedside when she was recuperating from casting the fertility spell, but that was it: one visit. It was a long way for them, but it was only one small step. Yet Belle was the one Regina trusted the most with this task. _

_"Yes," the Queen admitted honestly. "You've spent so much time in here since we arrived; you're probably the one who knows the library best besides me."_

_"What do you need?" Belle asked right away, knowingly, and Regina was immediately relieved of any doubts she had on the younger woman. _

_It had been the right choice to come to her. They might not be friends, might never be, but Belle was ready to help her, especially when it was with something she was good at, books and finding things, and most importantly, Belle didn't judge her. The shadows of their past would always lurk in the corner, there was no escaping it, but Regina sensed that, so long as her intentions were pure, and they were, the younger woman would be willing to lend her a hand. She appreciated it more than she could say and hoped Belle could feel it — the Queen wasn't the best at expressing how she felt (she was the worst in fact) so she had to let her eyes speak of her gratitude. _

_"I have to get to Wonderland." _

_"Wonderland?" Belle repeated. "What's so important in Wonderland?" _

_Regina hesitated. "A… friend," she whispered after a pause. She didn't think Jefferson would mind being referred to as one._

_"A friend?"_

_The Queen arched an eyebrow. "Are you done repeating every word I say?" _

_Belle frowned at her impatience, but kept going, "I'm going to need more information if you want me to help you," adding when there was no reply, "Why is your friend in Wonderland?"_

_Regina pressed her lips together and blew out a huge puff of air through her nose. This 'opening up' business Snow was so intent on having her do was hard, and then harder. "I trapped him, long ago, then dragged him to Storybrooke with us," the Queen confessed, not too happy about it, but she needed help, and she didn't trust the Charmings with this, couldn't stand their too-hopeful nature. "Reversing the curse—"_

_"Sent him back," Belle completed, and Regina nodded. It was easier than she thought doing this with Belle. "So we need to find a way to Wonderland and back? With him."_

_"Yes," Regina confirmed. Then, tilting her head, a smirk hanging on her lips, she added, "without killing anyone."_

_It took a moment, but Belle politely smiled back, not calling out the Queen on her weak and ungraceful attempt at humour. She turned the book in front of her upside down not to lose her page, pushed her chair back, "Let's see what we can find," and got up, immediately followed by Regina._

_The two of them set off to search the library for any kind of information on realm travelling, specifically Wonderland: where to find looking glass or any other magical object that could serve as portals, or a spell that didn't require someone's sacrifice._

_They worked through lunch, and when David showed himself into the room to inform them of the upcoming dinner (probably sent by Snow), they told him they would be there momentarily. _

_He stuck around though, offering to help them with _whatever it was they were doing_, and Belle had to assure him she would bring the Queen down with her when she came to the dining hall for David to leave them alone. Regina appreciated it more than she said._

_"Thank you," Regina finally stuttered before they left the room, turning around to face Belle, who was putting the last of their books away. "It seemed hopeless to go through all those books on my own."_

_The younger woman smiled kindly, walking the short distance separating her from the Queen. "Thank _you_," she said right back, leaving Regina speechless and with a frown on her face. She hadn't done anything that was worth Belle's thanks, at least not to her memory. She was about to express her confusion when the younger woman clarified, "If you hadn't returned us to the Enchanted Forest, Rumple's sacrifice would have been in vain, and Pan would have won."_

Oh,_ that was unexpected. Regina simply nodded, the subject still a sensitive one with her. But when Belle didn't speak, she guessed it was her turn to offer something to this conversation. "I'm sorry you lost him," she said genuinely. She paused, then, "I know what it's like to watch the person you love die in front of your eyes." _

_The confession was out before Regina could stop it, but the younger woman simply tipped her head down in understanding and didn't press for more information like Snow would have (if she hadn't been a part of the story, of course). _

_Belle didn't judge her, nor did she send her a pitying look like most people did. The gesture, or the absence of those she had come to expect in this case, touched the Queen deeply._

_"At least, I have the peace of mind of knowing he died doing the right thing," Belle offered, mustering all the strength she could in her voice, but Regina knew Rumplestiltskin's death was still something she struggled with every day._

_The Queen nodded dismissively at Belle's statement. She hadn't had the time to fully come to terms with Rumple's death herself, not with everything else that had happen that day. "I'm sorry," she said again because nothing else seemed appropriate. _

_Belle smiled and returned the sentiment, lifting a part of Regina's torment off of her shoulders._

_For the longest time the Queen wasn't sure she had done the right thing. How could she, when they had all been separated from people they loved? Snow and David had each other to pull through the hard times, and every time they tried to lift up Regina's spirits, she found she resented them the easiness with which they moved on, but Belle didn't have any of that. She was alone too, and Regina was suddenly very glad she came to her for help. _

_This had definitely been the right call to make._

* * *

"Golden-tipped arrows?" the younger woman's voice resounded in the room the moment she entered the library for their weekly meeting.

The Queen didn't answer, instead responding with a simple, "Hello Belle," to indicate her position.

Footsteps neared the aisle she was currently perusing, but Belle didn't let go of the subject as easily as Regina thought. "He's an old friend, Regina."

"I have no idea who you're talking about, dear," the Queen replied, focusing on the row of books in front of her, eyes squinting to read the titles. It was too late though, her mind had stopped understanding the words she read the moment Belle had hinted at Robin. _Damn thief._

Belle was closing in. "You know very well what I mean," she said as she reached Regina.

The younger woman stepped at the end of the alley, blocking her way, forcing the Queen to stop and look at her. Belle was several inches shorter than her, but Regina still felt stared down by her accusatory stare.

Robin Hood was the last thing she wanted to discuss, with anyone, but Belle pushed, "That wasn't a way to get him to leave?"

"Well he's not gone yet, is he?" Regina snarled, making Belle roll her eyes. "Now, come here, I need to show you something," she said as she turned around, heading in the opposite direction, and Belle had no choice but to follow.

They spend the rest of the afternoon trying to find a breakthrough, and not once did Belle mention the outlaw again.

It was another thing Regina appreciated about her new — maybe not friend but — _understanding_ with the woman. She didn't push, or very rarely, only when she felt she could, and even when she knew the Queen wasn't being entirely honest, so long as it didn't put anyone in danger, Belle didn't insist on knowing the whole truth.

* * *

The Charmings didn't do anything in halves, you had to give them that. The music was in full swing, the dance floor occupied by half the kingdom, the other half still eating from the overflowing banquet. The ballroom, which hadn't seen a proper reception in years – the Evil Queen hadn't been one to throw many parties, public executions were more her style – was filled with chatter and laughter, and more people than Regina knew could fit in here.

_Fools_, she thought, observing the lively crowd with the distasteful frown.

Belle had left her side for the hand of some gracious nobleman who was twirling her around the dance floor. He was her third partner of the evening: David had been the first one to draw her out when Snow had asked him for a pause; Robin Hood had stepped in after, requesting a dance with a curt bow worthy of the best nobles families (questions of where a thief like him learned how to dance with such assurance in his steps filled her head, but she dismissed them right away because the annoying outlaw wasn't worth that much fussing over); and now Belle was swept away by some rich man Regina didn't even know. The Queen was happy to see the younger woman had found her smile again; she knew how hard it had been for Belle to keep it together since they arrived in the Enchanted Forest.

Still, a part of Regina envied the way Belle was welcomed with open arms despite her relationship with the Dark One; no one would have dared asked the Evil Queen for a dance – not that she wanted to; she loathed these kinds of evenings ever since the King had thought it a good idea to parade her in front of his subjects like she was some precious possession. It was merely a subconscious thought she was having. Belle was trusted and loved by so many despite being on Rumplestiltskin's side, a man who had wronged people's lives just like the Evil Queen had (and he'd ruined her life too), yet Belle was currently at the arm of a nobleman who no doubt found her attractive, whereas the Queen was stuck on the side, glaring at the much too happy gathering Snow and David had organized.

(She refused to acknowledge the pang of jealousy that threatened to enter her heart.)

She had come down at Snow's request and Belle's insistence, but now that the former was gone and that the latter was else wise occupied, Regina saw no point in staying in a room full of people who were side eyeing her every move, waiting for her to bounce. Surely, they would be far happier if she left them to their celebration (and frankly, so would she. The music irritated her more every second).

This was how she found herself alone on her balcony, deep blue dress lost in the dark night sky, the moonlight reflecting on the beadings of her corset. The music was down to faint notes, nothing distinctive. Her hands rested on the rail as she stared out front, contemplating the expanse of the forest, following the dense trees to where they reached the sky at the horizon line. The world was vast; sometimes she wished there was some place she could go, some place away from reputations and wicked witches.

"It's a shame you left. I wanted to ask you for a dance." _His_ voice reached her ears as she least expected it, and she swivelled around with a hop, startled.

"How did you get in?" she spat, defensive, too much so.

Her attitude didn't faze him, and he took one step forward. "I'm a thief, milady. Getting into places I'm not supposed to be is my specialty." She could hear the smugness in his voice, and even if she couldn't make out the shape of his smirk in the darkness of her bedchambers, she knew it was there.

"Now about that dance?" the outlaw questioned again, taking another step in her direction.

She scoffed, "Not interested."

"On the contrary, I think you are," he corrected, "more than you let on."

"You are reckless, thief."

He replied with a, "You make me bold, Your Majesty," and the Queen was surprised at how easily the title rolled off his tongue. It didn't the title sound like a curse coming from him. It almost made her like it. _Almost_. (She was too caught up in hating him to think about hows and whys.)

Regina didn't have the patience for his peculiar sense of humour. She sighed, leaned back against the railing. She knew telling him to leave was pointless. No matter how many times she warned the thief, he always came back. His persistence was infuriating.

The scornful expression on her face must have made Robin change his agenda because his voice was gentler when he spoke again, "I only wanted to make sure you were alright."

She almost laughed, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"A family reunited with the daughter they thought lost..." he started, skimming closer. She faced away from him again, preferring the stillness of the night to the disturbance Robin's words were causing, but that didn't stop him from finishing his thought, "... it must have hit close to home."

Regina swallowed, then breathed in, long and calm, thankful Robin was staying put, had stopped in the middle of the room and wasn't pressing to come closer. For his intrusive words, the thief at least knew to respect her physical boundaries. (If he were to come closer, he would see the tears threatening to fall. Regina couldn't have that.)

"You don't know me." Her voice was thin, her words drawn.

"Alright, maybe I don't." His voice was almost apologetic, as if he knew he was intruding. _Why is he still here_ was the resounding question in the Queen's mind.

They stayed in silence for seconds that seemed to never end. Then, "I thought I asked you to leave the castle," Regina let out when she knew her voice would be steady enough not betray her.

"You didn't." His reply was prompt and closer than before. He had moved.

"The arrows—"

"Were a bribe," he interrupted, "and quite frankly, _not enough_." He added that last part with a small smirk. He was growing bold again, and Regina couldn't let it last.

She shuffled away from her balcony and toward her bedside table; retrieving the toy Roland had given her before meeting Robin halfway. "Give this back to Roland."

"You kept it," he observed, but didn't make a move to take back the stuffed toy.

Regina was surprised by his choice of words. "Of course I did, wh—"

"No. I mean," the outlaw paused, still considering his next comment, "you kept it for a week."

Robin eyes locked with her own, his gaze boring into hers, and Regina suddenly felt naked, like the thief was staring directly at her soul. She hated and didn't understand how his simple closeness (and he wasn't even _that_ close) seemed enough to tear at every protective wall she'd spent a lifetime building. She couldn't explain it (and if she were honest with herself, which she rarely was, it frightened her. It made him dangerous, made him a threat).

"Did it help you sleep?" he prodded again, trying to get more answers out of her, answers he didn't need or deserve; answers she couldn't imagine someone _wanting_.

"It's a _toy_," she dismissed with a huff, clasping her hands in front of her, fingers automatically fiddling with the furry material covering the monkey.

Robin's gazed lowered for a second, and she straightened her back, attempting to collect herself, squared her shoulders, but she couldn't shake this nagging feeling of being exposed to him.

He smiled as he looked up again, "Give it to him yourself. I'm sure he'd love to see you," and with a little shrug, he turned to walk away.

The warning stumbled out before Regina could think. "If you had an _ounce_ of intelligence, you'd keep your son away from me," she called after him, making him halt a few feet away from the door.

He seemed to pause a moment, then his eyes looked back, directly at her. "Well, as you said, I am but a reckless thief."

She sighed between gritted teeth, resenting the way he could get under her skin so easily, wishing he would keep his distance like everyone else, that he wouldn't second guess every declaration she made, that he'd stop trying to understand her decisions. He needed to be more like the other peasants he'd spent his life helping. He needed to stay away from her.

"See you around, Your Majesty," he added at her lack of response, leaving her bedchambers for good this time.

Regina's shoulders slumped the moment he was out, gripping the stuffed monkey tighter.

The outlaw needed to leave. And soon.

* * *

Snow turned to her husband the moment they were out of ear's reach, music from the ball barely a dull sound in the background when they closed the door to their chambers. "When you didn't come home to sleep, I feared the worst," she said, pressing her palms to David's chest, feeling him underneath her hands, needing the reassurance that he was here, that he was whole.

His hands came to rest on her shoulders as her fingers dug into his shirt. "I was only gone for a day," he tried to make it sound as if it was nothing, hands slowly starting the glide down her arms, but she refused to hear it.

"We've spent too much time fighting, David – Regina, your father, the curse – I want to live." If there was a quiver in her voice, it was simply an after effect of the stressful night she had just lived.

She felt his strong hands move up her arms, to her neck, framing her jaw. "I know, I'm sorry," he admitted, guilt clearly displayed on his face.

She nodded.

The Princess didn't hold it against him; she couldn't. She loved him too much, and she knew he had meant well.

"It's all about the moments, right?" she asked to lighten the mood, her voice cracking as she sniffled, but it succeeded in making them smile despite the water shining in their eyes.

His thumb started brushing the apple of her cheek, and he leaned it for a swift, languid kiss. "I will never let anything happen to you," he promised when they parted, then lowered his hands to her still-flat stomach, "or him."

"Him?" She lifted a brow.

"This is a little prince," he declared, full of himself.

Snow chuckled, "What makes you so sure?"

"Father's instinct," he smirked and winked, and just like that, her worries floated away, back the way they came. (David had always had a calming effect on her. She appreciated it more than she could say.)

She let herself lean on him, using his strength for both of them. David's arms held her close, and closer, and she allowed herself to close her eyes. "I just want our family to be safe. For once." Her thoughts went to Zelena, then to Regina. "Is that too much to ask?"

She felt his chin move in her hair as David shook his head. There was a small lull in the conversation before he asked, "Does this family include Regina?"

Snow sighed, shoulders slumping a little, "When she's ready," but she remained snuggled against his chest, ear pressed to his heart, his heartbeat steadying her.

"You know you can't push her," David said softly.

"I know," she followed with a loaded exhale, savouring the small circle her husband's fingers were tracing at the small of her back.

David whispered in her ear, "Do you want to know something about your stepmother?" His tone was mischievous, and she could hear the grin in his voice.

It prompted Snow to lift her head, finding in his eyes the gleam she suspected. "What did she do again?" she replied with a knowing smile of her own. From the playful look on David's face, she knew Regina wasn't in too much trouble, but knowing the Queen, she was expecting the worse.

He cleared his throat. "She gave _golden-tipped_ arrows to Robin." Snow lifted a brow as David continued, "I saw him at the stables before leaving yesterday — he's the one who told me about the night root."

A sudden spark animated Snow's eyes, her worries about her husband and his feelings towards their baby pushed aside. (They still needed to talk about it, but for tonight she would relish in the little things, in having him here and close.) "Tell me everything," she said, eager, as Charming started to recount what the archer had told him.

* * *

"Regina."

"David."

They greeted each other like two civilized people who didn't have years of hating each other under their belt. Regina felt his eyes raking over her, and she fought against the desire to roll her eyes, wondering when the Charmings would stop watching over her like overbearing parents, making sure every bone in her body was in the right place, that her emotions were not loose and out of control. (If anything, _she_ was supposed to be Snow's stepmother, not the other way around. It wasn't to say she had acted like the Princess's _anything_ for the past few years, but the Charmings shouldn't be her protectors. She didn't need protectors — didn't deserve it, the little voice in her head kept reminding her.)

"Heading to the council meeting?" David asked, and then the Queen did lift her eyes to the ceiling, scowling. _Small talk._ She hated it.

"Where else would I be going?" she replied, making sure her annoyance transpired in her tone.

The Prince shrugged, "You haven't been known for your punctuality lately."

"Pardon me if the thought of spending hours in a room full of people who would rather see me out of the castle doesn't fill me with joy."

"They're adapting," David spoke softly. "We all are."

She huffed. "And how is _adapting_ going with the future dad?" she asked, a triumphant smirk slipping in place as she used his own words against him.

David stopped mid-step, forcing Regina to turn around, clearly shocked that the Queen knew of Snow's condition, and that she knew it enough to mention it almost casually in a conversation. "You knew?" he stuttered.

"She came to me first — she wanted to make sure before she told you. Magic can come in handy for that," she explained, after which David let out a small _Oh, of course_ but left it at that, and his sudden silence made Regina curious. (She didn't really know why she bothered, but she did, even if she should know better than to entertain a conversation with either of the Charmings.) "Trouble in paradise?" she tried, tactfully, not too pushy, but her tone clearly indicating she was expecting a reply.

"Everything's fine. I just haven't been sleeping very well lately," he replied casually, but his tone had a nervous edge to it and his eyes were shifting in every direction but to her.

_Ah_, Regina lifted her chin. "And you thought night root could help?"

That made him look at her. "Did Robin—"

"I have far better things to do than to speak with Robin Hood," she defended, and her stiff reply had David raise a brow, but she followed with, "Magic is what I do, if you recall," before he could divert the conversation to a subject she'd rather avoid. "Night root is a common ingredient. The closest source is at the edge of the Sherwood Forest. Not the purest form of night root, but it will do." The Prince remained silent after that, averting her eyes anew, and she had to probe for answers again. "Are you scared?"

It took a moment, but he looked up, holding her gaze firmly. "No," he replied, unwavering.

If she hadn't spent years chasing after him and Snow White, she might have believed him.

"You lost Emma," she pointed out, and the look David sent her told her that he still held her responsible for the loss of his first child. "Guilty as charged," she admitted, "but that's besides the point."

"What is the point, Regina?" he fumed.

"Snow is expecting," she declared, clasping her hands in front of her, mouth stretching in a thin line, "and you have no way of knowing if you'll be able to keep this one safe."

David's breathing had quickened, his shoulders were hunched, and despite trying to appear sure of himself, she could see the hesitancy behind every movement.

Still, he held his held high — or at least tried to — and didn't let his uneasiness drag him down. "Why am I talking to you?" he sneered almost bitterly. (Regina knew he didn't really mean it like that. She was just poking at issues that were better undisturbed.)

Her answer came naturally, a soft half-chuckle. "Because you know I'm not going to offer you platitudes."

David considered it a moment, even nodded, and indicated for them to get back on their way to the council chamber.

Regina stepped in beside him, and they walked in silence the little distance left between them and the war room where the council was meeting – only the voice in her head was pushing her to say something more.

"For what it's worth," Regina started, tilting her head to look had him, questioning when exactly she had become the one cheering up David, "I'm not going to let anything happen to that baby." She offered him a close-lipped, earnest smile. "We're not losing another child," she added, and if he realized that she had referred to it as their child, as if she was a part of their family, David didn't mention it. (Regina wasn't sure herself of what she'd said. She preferred to forget her emotional moments.)

Despite all their disagreements and complicated past history, the Prince sent her a thankful glance, one the Queen returned in a brief moment of complicity.

The camaraderie was lost as soon they stepped into the council chamber, the Queen mask sliding on by force of habit.

"What is _he_ doing here?" she exclaimed, louder than necessary in the quiet room. Her eyes darted on the new person at the table, who had been around the castle but never on their council. He stared back at her with mirth, a pleased twinkle in her eyes, and she didn't miss the half-smirk that tugged one corner of his mouth up. She would give anything to wipe it off.

The Princess provided her with an answer, probably to prevent any outburst that would end with half the room being burned down. "I invited him."

Regina glared at her stepdaughter. "On whose authority?"

"Ours," David joined his voice to his wife, stepping in by her side.

Not breaking eye contact with the royal couple, Regina headed to her own seat, back straight, head up, purposefully avoiding to look at the infuriating thief even though she could feel his eyes rapt by her. "I thought ruling together implied making decisions with three people," she remarked nonchalantly.

"We knew how you would have voted on this," Snow's soft-spoken voice filled the room, her calmness driving the Queen mad. (Sometimes, she only wanted to have a good argument with her stepdaughter.) She was about to protest that she had a very good reason for wanting Robin off the official meetings, but Snow was already following with, "Besides, it's two against one," effectively cutting down her argument.

Regina let out an exasperated sigh, eyes flicking to the ceiling and back. "Of course it's two against one — he's your _husband_."

Her unimpressed stare glided left to David, who lifted his hands up in defense. "I sided with you on the fertilization spell," he pointed out, but that only served to irk Regina further.

"Yes, side with me when my life hangs in the balance, _Charming_."

"He knows the forest. We can use him," Snow's quiet tone tried to reason with her again.

"I thought that's what your wolf-friend was for."

"Red is helping in the villages with Granny. She's often gone from the castle," Snow explained patiently. "Robin and his men have proven to be of invaluable help these past few weeks."

She wanted to question their involvement; she didn't think they had done anything that validated a seat on the council, but from the way all eyes at the table were on her, it was obvious she was outnumbered.

"Fine," she relented, not without gritting her teeth. "But don't expect me to be nice to him. An outlaw should know his place." She sat down gracefully, head held high, and she missed the sideways glance Snow and Charming exchanged as they got to their respective seats.

There was a short silence before the subject of this debate finally spoke up. "Who said I wanted you to play nice?"

Regina snapped her head in his direction, sending him a death stare, only to be met by his incredibly smug expression and a raised eyebrow. He knew exactly what he had said and how it sounded.

She bit her tongue before the acerbic remark could leave her mouth, and Snow started the meeting before her stepmother started a commotion. There was a thieving issue in the furthermost east village, the south needed help reconstructing after a violent rainstorm, and they still hadn't seen Zelena or her monkeys this week, which wasn't bad, but it was exactly reassuring. They had no idea what she was plotting.

The Queen sighed. This would be a long day.


End file.
